


Finding Themselves

by Isscha



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Connor Murphy (Dear Evan Hansen) Has BPD, Evan Hansen Has Anxiety, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, It's DEH you know what you're getting into, M/M, Marijuana, Mental Health Issues, Road Trips, Self-Esteem Issues, Sexual Content, Suicidal Thoughts, Treebros, based on my own experience with anxiety and bpd, far fluffier than originally planned, story will update when it updates, swear words ahead, talk of weed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2019-11-07 09:41:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 37
Words: 129,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17958113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isscha/pseuds/Isscha
Summary: Connor reads the entire letter just after he leaves the library and his decision to do so is going to have lasting repercussions on not only his life, but also the lives of the author of the letter in his hands and those who know both of them.OrConnor is A Very Angry Boy and Evan is A Very Anxious Boy and neither have any idea what they’re getting themselves into.





	1. Prologue Pt.1 Connor

**Author's Note:**

> Buckle up, kids. It’s a long one. Hopefully the story ends up being interesting to someone other than me! This updates whenever I finish a chapter. Could be daily, could be once a week, could take months between, who the fuck knows. This monster is all outlined, it’s just a thing I’m working on when I have spare time until I finish Saturday Tea, and then I’ll focus on this one. Right now I’m estimating 33 chapters, but the final chapter count could still change.
> 
> Eventual tree-bros, convan, whatever the ship name is.

### Connor

 

If Connor Murphy needs more proof that the world would be a better place should he make the choice to officially off himself, both of his interactions today with Evan Hansen provide him with just that.  First he pushes the kid - who has a fucking broken arm - into the lockers before storming off in a rage and then later when he tries to apologize for shoving him, he signs his cast before invading his privacy, yelling at him _again_ and completely losing it on him before storming out of the library.

 

He is one charming son of a bitch.  Definitely friend material.

 

The little voice in his head is one sarcastic mother fucker, too.

 

He stomps down the empty hallway to the back exit and clenches his fists in his self-loathing.  The crackle of paper startles him out of his angry strop and he halts, chest heaving still from the energy anger usually saps away.  He glances down at the offensive noise to realize it is the weird ass letter Hansen had printed just after Connor had entered the library, the one titled Dear Evan Hansen.  He had seen the kid’s name and then his sister’s name had popped out off the page and his world faded to red.

 

Again.

 

It was an all too common occurrence in his life.

 

Almost against his will, he looks at the typed words again.  He’s not sure why he’s so drawn to them, why he cares so much about what Evan has written to mock him.  He supposes it’s some sort of sick joy he gets from knowing just how much everyone around him hates him and Evan Hansen can’t be any different.

 

Right.  Joy. That’s the word, isn’t it?

 

He plunks down next to a tree behind the school and starts to read.

 

_Dear Evan Hansen,_   
  
_Turns out this wasn’t an amazing day after all. This isn’t going to be an amazing week or an amazing year, because why would it be?_   


He knows a thing or two about not having an amazing anything in life, either, and just scowls harder when his chest twinges at the idea of shy, baby-faced Hansen feeling the way Connor does inside.  His soul is a mess of anger and depression and self deprecation and there is no way on this green earth that Evan Hansen’s soul looks the same.

 

Not a chance.

 

He decides that the twinge must be irritation and not concern.  The wind ruffles the leaves in the tree over his head and he jumps to his feet to pace around the trunk, scowling as he reads the next line that contained the damning words that triggered his earlier freakout.

  
_I know, because there’s Zoe, and all my hope is pinned on Zoe, who I don’t even know, and doesn’t know me. Maybe if I could just talk to her. Maybe nothing would be different at all. I wish everything was different._   


His fist connects with something solid and rough and his fingers begin to throb as he realizes he just punched the oak tree, which as it turns out is a lot more solid than a locker.  Great. Now he feels like an even bigger loser.

 

Creepy apparent crush on his sister aside, the way the first sentence of the letter reads out and how despondent the words sound after pinning his hope has him stamping down his true flare of irritation because it sounds like Hansen is just as lonely and friendless as Connor is and if that’s the case, he definitely doesn’t deserve Connor’s anger right now.

 

How many times has he himself wished everything was different?

  
Would it be worth the risk to talk to Evan, to risk exposing his vulnerability on the off chance he might find someone who won’t run screaming away?  Maybe he shouldn’t have said they could be pretend friends. Maybe he should have left out the word pretend and just given back the letter without snooping for once.  Lord only knows he can use a friend right about now.

 

That is, provided he lives past tonight, and the jury is still out on that one.

 

He does an about face and paces the other way around the tree.

 

Hansen could all just be doing this as a ruse to make an idiot out of him.  His rationality wins out almost immediately on that one because for once even his paranoid ass can see that Evan Hansen is literally unable to perform such a ruse.  Someone that anxious only lies to protect themselves, not make someone else look stupid.

 

He growls under his breath and finishes the letter.

  
_I wish I was part of something. I wish that anything I said mattered to anyone. I mean face it, would anyone notice if I just disappeared tomorrow?_   
  
_Sincerely,_   
_  
_Your most best, and dearest friend, Me

 

He drops his forehead onto the bark of the tree, every ounce of upset anger draining away.

   
He suddenly and desperately needs a joint and his last two are both in his desk at home.  He sort of regrets his current not-set-in-stone plan to smoke them just before taking the entirety of the bottle of his mom’s Xanax.  He sort of hates how quickly the intense urge to smoke can come up. He debates with himself about going home, but he knows if he does, he won’t return to the school and the impulse to talk to Hansen again is currently much stronger than the urge to smoke and he refuses to even think on the reasons why that is.

 

He’s not going to even touch on how pathetic the other kid sounds having signed the letter off in that fashion.  What on earth is a teenager doing typing and printing out diary pages for fucks sake? He definitely relates to wishing to matter, to make a difference, but all he’s good for is smoking pot and breaking things like objects and relationships.  At least, that is if one spoke to his family or teachers or peers.

 

Connor wonders what Evan thinks of him, the emo piece of shit that stains the halls and the school with his mere presence.  He knows that's what he thinks of himself, and that's what everyone else thinks, but he still has a morbid curiosity on if Evan believes what they do, that he is a walking time bomb of a loser.

 

They also think he does crack.

 

Three steps forward.  Stop. Kick a rock.

 

They also think he shoots up heroin.

 

Turn around.  Three steps forward.  Stop. Kick the tree.

 

They also think he abuses his family at home.  Sure, he’s not the nicest to Zoe, but she’s never been nice to him either.

 

Turn around.  Three steps forward.  Stop. Kick the rock again.

 

They also think he’s the next Dylan Klebold.

 

Turn around.  Three steps forward.  Stop. Stare at the tree almost in tears.

 

If he somehow actually manages to befriend Evan, will they start to think Evan is the next Eric Harris?

 

Will he destroy the other boy by passing along his bad reputation?  Could even he do that to another person? Or will Evan drag him out of the shadows and into the light?  He grimaces at the very idea of exposure like that. If Evan is going to throw him into the light, if he can start with a moonless night, that will be nice thank you very much.

 

He rolls his eyes at himself - a moonless night is probably Hansen’s preferable level of light as well - and unceremoniously drops himself to the ground again.  Honestly, already thinking of befriending Evan and he hasn’t managed a conversation yet that hasn’t ended in Connor overreacting and shoving or screaming at him.  He really is a lunatic, assuming anyone would want to even pretend to be a friend to the future school shooter.

 

At least reading the letter has accomplished some things, like completely erasing his previous anger towards the other boy and providing him with some valuable insight into his classmate.  Evan Hansen is just as depressed of a wreck as he is, though Hansen is apparently filled with crippling anxiety if his stammering and constant apologies are any indication and Connor with boiling emotional turmoil and irrational paranoia.

 

Now, what to do with the letter?  Toss it? Return it? Use it to complete his half-thought out suicide for tonight?  The last one is still tempting, but he’s still turning over the last paragraph in his mind, the one that echoes nearly everything he’s feeling right now, and his curiosity towards Hansen is currently overriding the desire to kill himself.

 

He suddenly and desperately needs to talk to Evan again.

 

Connor wonders nearly constantly if anyone would notice if he vanished without a trace.  Up until today, he’s always been certain that if anyone did notice, they would rejoice instead of weep.  That is why the thought to use the extremely despondent letter as his own suicide note is such a tempting one.  

 

But now his name is written on that boy’s cast, alone in the sea of white, and of course Connor wrote it in the largest letters imaginable.  More than one person would now at least notice if he vanished and that one person is the most unexpected person Connor could have attempted to befriend.

 

Someone might drag Evan into his bullshit if he were to kill himself, what with Connor’s name written in those big bold letters on the cast for everyone to see.  Someone might think they had been friends and _blame_ Evan for Connor’s death, claim that Evan could have prevented it, that Evan could…

 

No.  He hates himself, but he really can’t drag down someone else down with him, especially not someone with the problems Hansen appears to already have.  

 

He will settle for a final attempt at a conversation before he decides to commit to killing himself tonight and using his backpack as a pillow, he sets his alarm for five minutes before the final bell and hunkers down for a nap.  Processing emotions is exhausting.

 

~~*~*~~

 

Naps are revitalizing, Connor decides, and he smirks darkly at the squeak a freshman makes as she scurries away from where he is propped next to Evan’s locker.  He knows he can make one terrifying visage with his ripped black clothes and rats nest of a mane, and he is fully utilizing that to his advantage.

 

He waits by Evan’s locker, arms crossed and a dark glower fixed to chase away anyone else who dared to come near.  One brave boy attempts to ask Connor to move so he can get into his locker and when all Connor does in response is raise a single eyebrow.  The boy coughs and mutters a _never mind_ before he rushes off, leaving the hallway completely empty save for him and the fading footsteps.

 

He has barely any time at all to enjoy once again frightening off another annoying student because another voice breaks into his happiness.

 

But this voice is the one he’s been waiting for.

 

“C...c-onnor?  O..o-h no. I’m...I’m sorry.  Really. For...for earlier. I...sorry.  Therapy. It’s for...My letter. I’m so sorry.”

 

The glower instantly melts off as he faces Hansen and he feels panic for the first time in a long while.  Evan wasn’t the one who read a document that wasn’t his and then reacted poorly, no that was all on him. “No, no!  I’m sorry! For freaking out on you again like that. Like you said, in the library?” He thrusts out the now dirty and crumpled paper and pretends he’s not at all ashamed at just how obvious it is he read it and not just the once.  “I just…” His voice trails off and he watches as Evan shakily opens his locker.

 

It takes nearly four attempts to undo the lock, and by the time it clicks open, Connor wonders if Evan’s hand is really a vibrator with an intensity dial being rapidly cranked to ten.  Is he that terrifying?

 

“No! No, it’s...it’s not, it’s not _you_.  Well, not j..only you.  Everyone. It’s everyone.”

 

Apparently he asked that out loud.  Perfect. “Everyone?”

 

“Um, yeah.  Yes.  I’m a mess.”  He realizes that Evan has yet to even look at him and that combined with the shaking and the intense stutter only confirms his little tickle of a notion that Evan is filled with immense amounts of anxiety.  Most likely of the social kind. He can vaguely relate.

 

“Anxiety appears to be a bitch.”

 

Surprise registers on the other’s face and he finally looks at Connor for the first time since the library.  “It...it’s a cycle of...it is a constant cycle of _but what if_.”

 

He snorts at the deadpan, if not stuttered, delivery and nervously smooths down his jeans.  He still needs to ask about the contents of the letter. He still needs to know if he should cancel his suicide tonight or not.  He also knows that he is not being fair pinning that all on this one conversation, but he’s always been told he’s a selfish asshole and he’s never shied away from acting the part before.

 

“Let’s disappear together.”

 

He blinks in alarm.

 

Evan blinks in surprise.

 

That isn’t at all what he wants to ask but the question is out there and he suddenly desperately wants to know what the answer will be.  If Evan wants to go _with_ Connor, run away together like they’re the best of friends, there would be no reason to die tonight, right?

 

Right?


	2. Prologue Pt.2 Evan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan really needs to start thinking before he acts.

###  Evan

 

Evan watches as Connor storms out through the double doors of the library and lets out an audible whimper as soon as he’s completely alone again.

 

That entire interaction could have gone a lot better.

 

It could have also gone a lot worse.  Connor could have punched him or thrown something at him instead of just shoving at his shoulder again and storming out.

 

...with his therapy letter.

 

Fuck his life.

 

He looks at the clock and mutters bitterly to himself.  He doesn’t have time to type out another one but he really doesn’t want the lecture when he shows up at yet another session without a completed letter.

 

What is the fucking point of the stupid thing anyway?  To boost his confidence? Newsflash to his psychiatrist, but Evan is pretty sure after a summer of writing them that the letters aren’t working.  They’re turning more into a diary of ranting and self-deprecation and that is more befitting of a twelve year old girl than an eighteen year old boy.  Besides, false platitudes never help anyone.

 

He ignores that his latest letter reads more as a suicide note than anything else and picks at his cast.  Well, he attempts to ignore it anyway, but its hard when someone else has his letter and what if Connor  _ tells _ someone, or loses the letter and someone  _ else _ reads it and then shares all his secrets.

 

God, what if Jared finds it?  Evan will never live it down and he has enough that Jared rags him on that he desperately doesn’t want Jared to ever read any of his letters.  It’s bad enough that Jared knows he has to write them to begin with.

 

Evan sighs and drops bits of string covered in flaking plaster.  Dr. Sherman doesn’t like it when he does it this way, but he’ll just have to hand write one in his spiral bound notebook during his study period and maybe this time he’ll manage to make it sound less like a desperate cry for help and more of a ‘hey, I’m in control of my life, see!  No more letters, right?’ sort of letter so no one has to worry about him.

 

He snorts and shoves everything into his backpack.

 

He wasn’t lying when he typed out how he feels that no one would even notice if he were to vanish without a trace.

 

He still wishes he could disappear sometimes.

 

Falling from the tree hadn’t worked.  In fact, it hurt a lot and all he accomplished was a broken arm and bruised pride.  Swallowing a bottle of pills didn’t sound like a guaranteed or pleasant way to go and he’s heard too many horror stories of people who failed when using a gun not that he would even know where to find one let alone the courage to use it.  And slitting his wrists? That would require Evan to have a much higher threshold for pain. He cries when he gets a papercut and the pain that came after falling from the tree nearly killed him, even when the landing didn’t. 

 

His afternoon classes are uneventful and boring.  The teacher drones on about...what class is he even in right now?  History? He could care less about whatever point of time the teacher is covering and instead spends the class period going over and over his interaction with Connor.

 

It had actually been going fairly well.  Connor had apologized for shoving him, something Evan had not expected, and they had exchanged some sad jokes about how sad Evan was for falling out of a tree.  Evan flushes thinking of how Connor’s eyes had scanned his name at the top of the paper, how his name had sounded  _ so damned good _ being said out loud by someone new.  He swallows hard and suppresses a violent shudder at the memory of Connor’s face when he had come to Zoe’s name.

 

He can understand Connor’s rage.  If he had a sister, he would probably feel the same way if a creepy loser had a crush on her, though by this point in the day, he’s wondering why.

 

A lot of why’s, in fact.

 

Why does he exist?

 

Why does he have a crush on Zoe Murphy?

 

Why does he have to be here at school today?

 

Why does Jared insist they aren’t real friends?

 

Why can’t they be friends like they were in elementary school?

 

Why did Connor look like he was going to cry as he left the library?

 

Why is Evan still  _ here _ ?

 

Why, why, why.

 

He hopes Connor never approaches him again.  He can’t handle this much confrontation in his life and he’s nearly to the point where he never wants to step foot out of his house ever again.

 

Maybe he can finish high school online.

 

Except, when Connor had fled the scene in the library, he wore the same expression Evan sees on himself every single time he looks in the mirror and he wonders if Connor has anyone who gives a shit about him.  Does Connor have friends? Does Zoe talk to Connor? Are his parents supportive?

 

He somehow doubts Zoe makes time for Connor, if his brief interaction with her in the hallway is any indication of the siblings relationship and it makes him sad.  She’s always seemed to be so nice to everyone, it's hard for him to fathom that her kindness wouldn't also extend to her brother, especially when he is obviously hurting.

 

It’s not a far stretch to then think that Connor probably has no one he can talk to.

 

He shoves the thought out of his mind.  It is not his problem right now. He has enough to worry about, such as getting to his next class on time.  He wonders if he should have spent more time focusing on the teacher as he has no clue if they have an assignment due the next period.

 

He feels so apathetic about not knowing.

 

He wants to disappear.

 

~~*~*~~

 

He sits at his desk until the classroom is mostly emptied before he packs up his backpack to make the last trek of the day to his locker.  He prefers to navigate the hallways when they are relatively empty and he doesn’t need to rush to find his bus today because he has to walk to his therapy appointment which means he probably actually should be rushing to get out the door and down the sidewalk a lot faster than he’s moving now, but he can’t bring himself to care.  The teacher completely ignores him as she shuffles her papers on her desk and Evan is grateful for the reprieve from watchful eyes.

 

The first day of senior year has sucked big time and he has no more energy to expend.

 

Once the room is clear and the hall sounds nearly silent, he shuffles down the hallway slowly, fingers pulling at the hem of his shirt, his eyes taking in the walls filled with teacher bulletin boards covered with positive welcoming messages that seem hollow and false.  Stray students rush down the hall, some carrying books, others jackets, and still others just their backpack straps as they sprint down the hallway towards the door to the busses.

 

He wonders if Dr. Sherman will understand if he cancels.  Probably, as Evan’s original appointment wasn’t until Friday.  He wonders if his mom will understand. That one is a bit more doubtful.  She made the extra appointment, after all.

 

He rounds the corner to see a slim form standing by his locker, back towards Evan as they faced the other hallway.

 

Oh fuck.  Who is that?  It isn’t Jared.  For one, Jared is shorter than the figure currently there and second, he hasn’t seen Jared since the altercation between him and Connor this morning and Evan doesn’t anticipate the other boy seeking him out again today.  It doesn’t fit with Jared’s MO. There is only one other person he can possibly think it could be without them facing Evan, and he doesn’t think it means anything good.

 

Long hair that waved and curled around his head?

 

Dark hoodie he can’t tell if is black or green but is sufficiently intimidating nevertheless?

 

Dark jeans that probably were black at one point but faded to the point of being almost grey in places?

 

A glare that could melt ice assumed to be on his face as he stared down the hall at the back of some retreating student?

 

“C...c-onnor?”  Shit. What is Connor Murphy doing at his locker?  Memories of the morning and then the printer flash through his mind again and he winces.  He really hopes Connor isn’t here to kick his ass. Even if he does probably deserve it. “O..o-h no.  I’m...I’m sorry. Really. For...for earlier. I..sorry. Therapy. It’s for...I’m so sorry.”

 

_ Yes, stammer like an idiot, Evan.  That will convince him to leave you unharmed. _

 

He’s surprised when Connor whirls around and there’s only a bare hint of a glower that is rapidly fading and is quickly replaced by a sort of terrified kind of smile that Evan can definitely relate to. “No, no!  I’m sorry! For freaking out on you again like that. Like you said, in the library?”

 

Apparently, Connor is attempting another chance at what...conversation?  Mocking Evan?  _ Friendship _ ?  

 

He hates social interactions.  He has no idea how to read the cues others give.  But apparently, Connor is the same way.

 

He jumps when Connor thrusts out the now dirty and crumpled paper that he suddenly realizes is most likely his therapy letter from earlier this afternoon and he can feel his heart rate jump when he realizes Connor has read it, and obviously not just the once.  There’s a huge lump in his chest that he can’t push any words past and he helplessly stares at the first failed attempt to open his locker.

 

He is oh so very pathetic and now Connor has read the proof of that.  He has no reason, no obligation, to stay near Evan, so why is he? They’re not friends, well they’re pretend friends which is different than real friends, because if family friends aren’t real friends, then pretend friends can’t possibly be either.

 

“I just…”  Connor’s voice trails off and Evan can feel his eyes on him as he fails a second and third time to open his locker.

 

His hands are just too sweaty and are only getting worse.  The air around him feels oppressive and heavy and he just wants Connor to say or do what he is here to say or do and then leave so he can have his panic attack and hate himself in peace.

 

“Am I really that terrifying?”

 

Connor’s voice is soft, so soft that Evan wonders if he meant to say it verbally at all.  He resolves to keep his mouth shut, to not draw attention to the fact that he had spoken out loud and that Evan had heard him.  However, he is terrible at controlling his impulses and he answers the question anyway. 

 

“No! No, it’s...it’s not, it’s not  _ you _ .  Well, not j..only you.  Everyone. It’s everyone.”

 

Connor’s eyes widen minutely.  Apparently he really hadn’t meant to say it out loud. “Everyone?”

 

“Um, yeah.  Yes. I’m a mess.”  He realizes that he has yet to even look at Connor and wonders if doing so will make the conversation better or worse.  If he’s not looking at Connor, he doesn’t have to worry about what expression is on Connor’s face, so it could go either way if he is being completely honest with himself, and wouldn’t that be a change of pace.

 

“Anxiety appears to be a bitch.”

 

He finally looks at Connor for the first time since the library.  “It...it’s a cycle of...it is a constant cycle of  _ but what if _ .”  He’s a little surprised at how dry his response is through the stammer and wants to giggle when Connor snorts.

 

Evan scrutinizes him carefully.  He’s pale and twitchy, except for a slight flush in his cheeks and a glimmer of hope in his eyes as he watches Evan’s face.

 

_ Connor needs something _ .  He’s not sure why Connor is in front of  _ him _ if he needs something, but Evan supposes he can make an attempt to answer whatever it is that is bothering the other boy.  He waits patiently for Connor to speak, unwilling to call attention to his observations. No one needs that.

 

“Let’s disappear together.”

 

Evan blinks.  That was not at all what he was expecting Connor to say or do.  In fact, that fell far outside the realm of what Evan expected of people to say and do, at least in regards to him.  No one ever asks Evan to do anything  _ together _ .  He had honestly expected Connor to tell him off, to tell him to never come near anyone in his family again.

 

Connor blinks, too.  The wide eyed expression of alarm tells Evan that Connor hadn’t expected to say what he said either.  He’s curious as to what Connor had actually come to say before the words fully register. 

 

Disappear?

 

As in, what, a suicide pact or running away?  His eyebrows shoot up and it is his turn to gape gormlessly at Connor.  “Wait, what? Why? Where?... How?”

 

“Don’t say when.”  He interrupts with a slash of a hand and Evan cracks a nervous grin.  “You sound like English class.”

 

“Don’t you need to be eighteen for the police to remain uninvolved?”  Was that a real sentence that just emerged from him? Did he really manage to say something that wasn’t an absolute mess?

 

He is ready to tell Connor yes right then and there with that realization.  Not even his mother hears him speak without some sort of a restart in his sentences.

 

“I  _ am _ eighteen.  Turned it this summer.  I had to repeat a year after I...well, I missed a lot of school sophomore year.”  He pauses and gives Evan a narrowed eyed look. “What about you?”

 

“I was...I also missed a lot of school except I was in eighth and...and had to repeat because my inpatient doctor didn’t want me to worry about my homework right then she wanted me to worry about not worrying about things.”  He admits slowly, wincing as he still manages to make his words all one run-in rambling sentence of word vomit. “My birthday is in June.”

 

“July.”  Connor says in reply, and Evan nods.  He’s older than Connor, not by much but still, and that isn’t something he was expecting to learn today.

 

“Why...no offense, but if you want to disappear that typically means you want to be alone, and I’m not sure why would you want...me? To join you?”  He can’t help but point out logically and his heart staccatos at the dark sort of angry look Connor is giving him and his stomach sours just a hair.  “Not that I’m saying no, I’m not I’m just asking because I think I would like to go but I don’t want to go if you don’t really want me to. I’m a mess. I’m not easy to be around, and I would hate for you to regret bringing me when you could bring anyone that isn’t as much of a colossal failure of a human being.”

 

Connor gives him a strange look but ignores most of his ramblings and for that he is grateful.  “No one gives a shit about us, might as well be each others shit givers.”

 

He can’t help it. 

 

He really can’t.

 

“Don’t...don’t you give...don’t you give everyone shit?” 

 

Thankfully, after a few long, agonizingly silent heartbeats, the other boy just snorts and shoves his hands into his hoodie pockets.  “Shut it, Hansen.” The tone is almost warm and friendly.

 

Evan can’t believe it when he feels his spine relax just a smidge at the tone.  He never relaxes around other people. But his joke apparently went over well with the other boy, and he suddenly knows why Jared keeps trying over and over with his stupid or hurtful jokes just for the chance of that one half chuckle.  It’s quite a thrill when a joke actually lands.

 

“Come over.”  He blurts out, clutching his backpack straps.  “I...I mean, after my...after my therapy appointment.  We can decide what we want to do.”

 

There’s a long pause where he’s being scrutinized by the scraggly haired boy, almost as if he’s being measured by whatever is written all over his face.  

 

“Therapy?”  He asks finally.

 

Evan nods.  “I walk there when I have time or take the bus if I don’t.  My...my mom usually…”  _ No, that’s too pathetic, tone it down Evan _ .  “I walk there and walk home, too.”   _ Not sure how that’s better.  Now you’re a loser who is in therapy with no car and obviously no friends and no life and you need to walk away now before Connor tells you to. _

 

Thinking of walking reminds him that he has his appointment with Dr. Sherman and about how with how late it now is, he’s going to have to run to make it on time which is going to make him hot and sweaty and his heart is going to be racing before he even sits in the office and then everyone will hate him for making the waiting room smell like a locker room and Dr. Sherman will refuse to see him any more and...

 

His thoughts come to an abrupt halt when Connor lets out a cough.  “Well, I could always…” Evan holds his breath. What is he even hoping for?  Surely not for an offer to drive him, is he? After all, it’s only Evan. Why would he?

 

Then again, he did come up and tell him to disappear with him.  It seems the sort of statement that indicates at least a token of positive emotion towards him and Evan isn’t used to that from anyone aside from his mom and sometimes Jared.

 

The other boy looks embarrassed and Evan doesn’t want to draw attention to it but he needs to leave now if he’s going to be on time.  He breathes a sigh of relief that he’s not going to be late to his appointment when Connor suddenly nods sharply to whatever he was arguing about in his head and bites out a soft, “I can take you.”

 

Evan is pretty sure that the human heart shouldn’t quiver in one’s chest like his is right now, especially just over someone offering him a  _ ride _ .  It wasn’t like it was a promise of friendship, or a date, or anything important.  “Than...thanks, Connor.”

 

Connor shrugs and spins his keys around his finger.  “C’mon. Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You get two tonight just because it is a two part prologue. I didn't want to combine the POV's bc the chapter would have been twice or three times as long as every other chapter to follow and that sets unrealistic expectations.


	3. Planning and Plotting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evan sees a section to write special instructions and he shows it to Connor. “Do you think I could write in here something like, ‘There is an ugly blue vase with plastic, weathered flowers on the front porch. Please leave the food next to it and ring the doorbell and leave.'?”

### Evan

Evan has always wondered what it would be like to have a real friend as a teenager.  He knows Jared doesn't count. The other boy reminds him of his status as his ‘family friend’ often enough he shouldn’t keep forgetting.

 

Jared isn’t really Evan’s friend, not any more.  They used to be, before Evan’s crippling anxiety turned him into a stammering mess around the time his father left.  He's still convinced his anxiety was the reason his father left, but seeing as neither he nor his mother has spoken to him in years, he can't know for certain.  Jared tried for a bit, but his friend didn’t stick around long once fifth grade came around and being cool was more important than being kind.  Their once close friendship became familial obligations and Evan clung to it desperately because he _can’t make friends doesn’t know how oh god no one wants to be his friend and why would they_.

 

Fifth grade was brutal.

 

Middle school was hell.

 

Freshman year was a slaughter.

 

Senior year was shaping up to be even worse.

 

Thinking of Senior year has him thinking of the morning and the interactions he had with Jared and Connor.

 

Jared has never really been a _good_ friend, even when they called each other such, and he is certainly not loyal.  A loyal friend wouldn’t have abandoned him. Evan knows now that his anxiety problems mostly stem from his father leaving him.  In short, he literally has daddy issues, and nothing feels more pathetic than when Jared says it over and over while rolling around on his bed, snot and tears running down his face from laughing so hard.

 

Evan is fairly certain even family friends don’t do that to each other, mock and laugh derisively, but he always keeps his mouth shut about it because his opinion doesn’t matter.  At least, not to Jared.

 

Connor, however, seems like the type of person that once you are his friend, he is willing to kill to protect you and that frightens Evan a little bit.  He seems a lot like Jared in some ways, rude sarcastic and snarky, but he was very different from Jared in one very important way: Connor apologized for hurting Evan.

 

In all their years of friendship, family or otherwise, Jared has _never_ done that.

 

Connor sees that Evan is human.  When was the last time anyone else has?

 

“Where am I taking you?”

 

Evan’s seatbelt makes a lovely snap when he clicks it into place.  “The medical plaza near the Aldi’s.” He remembers last minute that the Murphys are rather well off and have most likely never have even stepped into an Aldi’s let alone know where it is.  “I...well, I mean…it’s off of...”

 

“Yeah, no I know where that is, don’t worry.”

 

And surprisingly, there was nothing in Connor’s tone that has him wanting to worry, which makes a new thing in Evan’s life he is experiencing now.

 

That thought nearly has him spiraling into a panic attack right there and he scrambles for something to say to avoid the thing he had already avoided once on accident.  “Why are you being nice to me?”

 

That isn’t even close to something he wants to talk about.

 

“What?”  He watches Connor’s knuckles turn white around the steering wheel and he mentally scrambles to find the words to reassure before Connor jumps to the wrong conclusion, but the words won’t leave.  “Why? Do you think I’m not capable of being nice? Is that it?”

 

“No!”  The word flies from him like a spring under too much pressure, which is entirely accurate given the state of his mind on any given moment of the day, and he whips around in his seat as best he can to stare Connor down.  “It’s just...It’s. No one...I’ve never…” He stops and closes his eyes in frustration. This is what he hates the most about his mental issues. He can’t get the words that flow so elegantly in his head to come out in anything but a mess that is barely understandable as the English language and if he can’t get these words out he’s going to lose any hope of a real friendship with Connor and then...

 

“I think I get it.”  

 

All the anger has been drained out of Connor’s words and Evan finds himself nodding in return, grateful that the other boy had spoken up and halted his stream of mental babble.  

 

The truth is, Connor probably does get it.  He’s probably the only one Evan knows that understands what Evan is trying to say.  “I’m not used to that.” He hopes that at least partially explains, scrambling to grasp at the straws that tell him Connor truly does understand, that Evan isn’t alone.

 

“Me either, Hansen.”  The laugh that huffs out is bitter and sad.  “Look, I was thinking about killing myself tonight and you tried to kill yourself before school started.  I think between the two of us, we can understand each other just a little bit better than the other losers in our lives.”

 

That has Evan sitting ramrod straight, ice racing down his spine.  No one is supposed to realise, no one else has figured it out, no one else has asked him about it.  Not even his mother, not even his therapist had suspected the truth. “I didn’t -”

 

No one was supposed to find out!  How did Connor figure it out with the tiny amount of real conversation they had shared?

 

“Hansen, both that creepy letter earlier and your broken arm can’t lie to me.  You’re just as fucking hopeless as me.”

 

Odd how such harsh words are the ones to break him from his second downward spiral into his personal hell since getting into the car.  “I can...I guess that’s...I suppose that’s true.” Of course he’s pathetic. It’s why he goes to Dr. Sherman to begin with.

 

“Anyway.”  Connor shifts and changes lanes without looking and it makes Evan want to shriek in alarm but he manages to keep it inside and keeps his eyes fixed on where they’re going.

 

This is why he walks places.  Less chance of death by multiple tons of metal and rubber and fiberglass.   And he’s actually going to run away with a mostly stranger in the very car he’s currently in.  “Anyway?”

 

“ _Anyway_.”  He emphasizes before continuing the thought.  “Long story short. You are interesting.”

 

This is not something anyone has ever told Evan.

 

Ever.

 

Obviously Connor is wrong.

 

“I am not.”  He splutters, staring at Connor.  Is he brain damaged from weed? He doesn’t think marijuana accomplishes that, but maybe Evan’s research is incorrect and it does do that and maybe Evan _doesn’t_ want to try the part that gets you high someday after all, not if it’s going to make him think someone as boring and messed up as Evan Hansen is _interesting_. 

 

“You are.”  Connor insists flatly.

 

“I’m _not_.”  Evan insists emphatically and the difference between the two is stark.  “I’m boring!”

 

“You’re not boring!”  The other boy finally yells and Evan falls silent at the almost pleading tone.  Connor genuinely believes that Evan is an interesting person.

 

And that sparks Evan’s long dormant curiosity.  “Why? What about...what about me isn’t..isn’t boring or..or..or dull or just plain pathetic?”

 

The Jeep fills with silence, save for the background thumping of whatever music that was on the radio with the speakers down almost as low as they could go.  The wheels hum as they pass various houses and businesses and Evan can see the building that contains his weekly personal hell that are his therapy appointments looming in the distance.  He’s extra tense now and he hates it. He hates his anxiety and he hates his therapy and he hates the fact that he has no friends except now maybe Connor sort of counts like Jared sort of counts?  He shoves away the groan of despair and resolves to remain quiet.

 

When Connor chuckles, Evan realizes that he must have released the groan instead and he feels his face grows hot.  Why is he such a mess? They park in front of the red brick building with the name of the practice in stark white straight edged letters and Evan hesitates.  “Connor?” He’s not sure why he’s saying the other boy’s name. He’s not sure how to word the scrambled questions bouncing in his mind.

 

But it seems his worry is useless for once because Connor just gives him a little half smile that doesn’t quite dispel the sadness and hopelessness that resides deep below.  “I’ll tell you why when you’re done with your appointment. Gives me a chance to think of words.”

 

Evan nods and pulls the door handle.  He pauses just after popping open the door and looks at Connor again.  “Thanks.”

 

“Yeah.  You’re welcome.  I'll be here when you're done.”

 

~~*~*~~

 

Connor immediately orders iHop off of one of those food delivery apps and makes himself at home on Evan’s bed.  “Food’ll be here in 45 minutes or so.”

 

Evan’s too busy scrolling through the app on his own phone, having downloaded it as Connor was ordering.  “This is amazing!” He knows he’s gasping and gaping like an idiot, but the fact remains that there is minimal interaction between him and the deliverer and he can’t believe he’s never heard of this before!  There’s no money to exchange, it’s all done with the card payment on the app. There’s nothing to sign, so no reason to make awkward conversation with the driver.

 

Evan sees a section to write special instructions and he shows it to Connor.  “Do you think I could write in here something like, ‘There is an ugly blue vase with plastic, weathered flowers on the front porch.  Please leave the food next to it and ring the doorbell and leave.'?”

 

“Please leave food, ring doorbell, and fuck off.”

 

“I think I’ll keep it polite, but...yes.  That...that is the basic gist of what I said.”

 

“Go for it, Hansen.”

 

He does and saves the profile.  It’s not as if he’s going to use the app, not if he’s with Connor from now on.  Tonight is the last night he is going to need to order food himself but Connor had taken that over by using his phone and now here is Evan marveling at the things humans create.

 

“Have you ever been to Colorado?  I’ve always wanted to go skiing and they have some bombass resorts.”  Connor asks about an hour later around a mouthful of warm pancakes and Evan winces, both at the grotesque display and at the mention of the state his stupid, cheating, no good, abandons-his-son-to-have-other-better-not-broken-children, creep of a sperm donor lives.

 

He’s not bitter.  Not at all.

 

“I’d rather avoid Colorado, if it’s all the same to you.”

 

They’ve been using the last hour while they waited for food to snicker over some viral video compilation that had popped into Connor’s YouTube feed and discussing all the things they could do to disappear and Evan had come to one conclusion : Therapy for him is useless.  Evan is feeling better than he has in years doing just what he’s doing right now with Connor, sitting on his bed waiting for pancakes just chatting instead of in his therapists office being forced to talk about things that he couldn't find words for or felt weren’t the largest issues he was facing at the moment and if they could get back to those, that would be nice thank you very much.  

 

Yes, he prefers his talks to Connor already to those with Dr. Sherman and he’s only had barely half a dozen encounters with the other boy.

 

So far, they had decided against killing themselves, much to Evan’s relief.  He wants to disappear, not die, not after his failed attempt from the tree. He wants a chance to enjoy some life on his own terms and he can’t do that if he’s dead.  The next plan is Connor suggesting they abandon his car at the park and hitch rides across the country, but Evan’s anxiety tells him that it’s an extremely Bad Idea™.  So Connor changes it to selling his current car and trading it for a different one so they can move about under the radar easier.  Evan thinks about asking about insurance and registration, but something in Connor’s eyes tells him it wouldn’t be wise to mention.  They don’t throw the passenger in jail for driving without insurance, do they? Do they even throw the driver?

 

Evan has absolutely no idea.

 

After being reassured through an almost panic attack that Connor wasn’t pissed about the prospect of selling his car, Evan suggests they buy one that has good gas mileage and Connor laughs hysterically before saying he’s going to focus more on finding one that is suitable to live out of, and then will ask about gas mileage.

 

Connor laughs like a man dying, Evan realizes, and wonders if he’s far off from the truth.  His heart aches that someone he knows feels the way he does about life, feels as hopeless and bleak about the future as he does.  No one should feel that way. Selfishly though, he’s glad he’s found Connor, that Connor seems to at least understand the idea that something in your head can make you turn irrational for no reason.

 

“What city?”

 

He’s drawn forcibly back to the actual conversation.  Shit, he contributed to the conversation and then didn’t listen to the response.   Why is he such a disaster?

 

“Huh?  Sorry! Sorry, I...”

 

“What city do you want to avoid?”  Connor speaks over his apology and Evan can’t decide it’s because Connor understands that Evan sometimes loses himself in his thoughts and that it’s part of his anxiety and part of his illness or if Connor think his lack of initial response is because Evan hates him, that Evan thinks he’s as bad as the rumors say he is, and all emotion has drained from him at the very idea.

 

However, when Evan looks at Connor, his eyes aren’t angry, and his tone is sort of flat and calm, so Evan forces himself to relax when Connor expands on his question.  “Or is it the whole state of Colorado?”

 

“It just my dad, that’s all.”  He somehow manages to eek that sentence out without a single stutter.

 

Progress.

 

The other boy snorts and flicks his hair over his shoulder.  “Psh, when was the last time he saw you?”

 

Evan shrugs.  He pulls on the threads that hang off his cast.  “I think I was ten. We went to a Rockies game. I hate baseball.”  Not that he wouldn’t have minded had his father made the attempt to bond when Evan was seven instead of leaving him behind when he moved to Colorado.

 

Connor rolls his eyes and flops back on the bed after setting his plate on Evan’s desk.  “God, our fathers would get along. I hate baseball, too and he gets so offended when I won’t toss around a ball with him or don’t want to learn how to break in…”  He cuts himself off and scowls at the carpet. “Back to you. Your stupid father won’t recognize you even if we happen to see him when we’re in Colorado. 18 year old Evan looks very different from 10 year old Evan so why avoid an entire state just because of one person?  Why allow him that much control over you?”

 

Evan can’t argue with that logic, no matter how much his anxiety wants him to, and he chooses not to.  “Fine.” He sighs. “I have...I’ve always wanted to go...to visit, especially in the fall to see the aspens, though I’m pretty sure we’re too late now and that makes me a little depressed actually because aspens turn such pretty colors and I’ve never really gotten to see it and now I still won’t see it.”  He genuinely felt sad at the idea that he has already missed the color change and then feels a bit silly that he nearly rambled on again about problems that don’t matter. He has beautiful color change here in New York, too.

 

It’s just…

 

_Aspens._

 

“Nerd.”  Connor sounds amused.  “We’ll just go next year.  We’ll spend all of September in the Rocky Mountains.”

 

Evan’s not sure how he feels about the idea that the boy lounging on his bed apparently likes him enough to assume they’ll still be around each other in a years time.  “You really… I mean, it sounds like a plan.”

 

“Speaking of plans, can we plan that we’re going to be driving off after school tomorrow and then be done with the list?”  Connor groans and Evan snorts.

 

“We can’t just jump in without some sort of a game plan, Connor.  We need money, we need food, we need shelter, and we at least need a first destination.”

 

“We have money.”  Connor snorts. “I’ll just need to finish draining my bank account.”  There’s something else Connor obviously wants to add, what with how he keeps opening and closing his mouth, but Evan doesn’t push when he instead remains silent.

 

“They’ll know you left, then.”  Evan warns and Connor shrugs.

 

“I’ve been withdrawing it over the last few months and squirreling it away.  I’ve been planning to do something like this for awhile. It was always just the choice between suicide and escape.”  He takes another bite of food and grins. “It might be legal to disappear, but I don’t want to pull all of my money out of an ATM and then be found a day later.”

 

That doesn’t sound like a thing Evan wants to have happen, either.  “I’m glad we’re choosing escape.” Evan murmurs, wrapping his arms around his knees and propping his chin on them. His unfinished pancakes sit on the bed next to him.  He’ll finish them later.

 

Connor is worryingly silent for a few breaths before he shrugs again and looks away.  “I am, too, I guess.”

 

Desperate to keep the silence from descending and casting their conversation further into the dark depression that seems to threaten not just Evan but Connor as well, he asks, ‘why...why can’t we have...why don’t we make a list of what...what we want to see?  We can make a sort of bucket list for our trip. For instance, I desperately want to see the redwoods in California. If we think of something that’s closer, we stop there first.”

 

Connor’s head lifts from Evan’s pillow and a slow smile spreads over his lips.  “Hansen, that might just be best idea you’ve had yet. Except I’m going to be fucked if I let you call it a fucking bucket list.  We’re not eighty.” He lets his head drop back down to Evan’s pillow and falls silent to think and Evan watches his face curiously.  Connor is a very expressive thinker, he realizes, and nearly smiles at the thought. “I want to go somewhere where weed is legal.” He says finally.  “We can do that in Denver and there’s a lot in Colorado to do so I could tick two off the list for me.”

 

Evan watches as he writes out Colorado - weed and fun on the next line.

 

“Any and all of the National Parks.”  He says, still staring at the paper, and Connor bursts out laughing.  “What? What’s so funny?”

 

“Of fucking course you would want to do that, you tree fucker.”

 

“I do not...I am not...Connor!  My relationship with trees is purely platonic!”

 

Evan is very glad his mother is never home because Connor sounds like a hyena cackling like that.

 

“Don’t worry, Tree Boy.  I put it on our list. See?”  He points with the pencil and Evan reads ‘Stop at National Parks because Evan’ and smiles weakly.

 

“Thanks.”  He fiddles with the quilt on his bed, fighting a genuine smile.  He’s trying to remind himself that Connor told him they were pretend friends, that he can’t be too attached to the other boy, but at least pretend friends were so far better than family ones.

 

By the time Connor leaves that night, it’s decided that they will meet at a used car dealer at 4 after school and they’ll sleep near Niagara Falls before making their way first to Yellowstone because Evan had rambled for so long about geysers and petrified wood and park conservation Connor reluctantly admits to wanting to see, too.

 

“So we’re really doing this then?”  Connor looks over at him and Evan grins back.

 

“Yeah.”  He says softly, surprised at how eager he is now for tomorrow to come.

 

“Cool.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had eight chapters finished before I started to post this, so I'll get those out and then hopefully will be able to pop one out every few days or so. I really love writing this, so I don't want to leave it too long, but I also am not willing to abandon my beautiful Harry Potter fics for it.


	4. Connor Makes a Final Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Connor can still make a different choice. He can. He’s not tied to Evan Hansen.

###  Connor

“Where have you been, Connor?  It’s 10 at night. You should have been home hours ago.”

 

Cynthia’s tone isn’t quite concerned and it isn’t quite upset and he has to fight to keep his temper under control.  He can hear the accusation quivering beneath the surface of the question and he clenches his fists under his sweater sleeves.  She looks sad,  _ disappointed _ , and it takes a moment for him to realize what exactly it was she is upset about.

 

It isn’t that he is home so late.

 

It isn’t that she had no idea where he was and she is worried about him.

 

No, she’s only sitting there waiting for him because he left Zoe at the school without a ride.

 

“Out.”  He’s not going to slip up and tell her about Evan, not when he’s so close to being away from his shitty ass family.  If they find out about this…what is it called, friendship? Fake friendship?  _ Fuck, Evan’s running away with me, I can definitely drop the word fake _ ...then his only option will be death because he doesn’t plan on being found by his parents after tomorrow.

 

And now that he’s had a taste of just how intriguing he can find another human being, he’s finding himself loath to give that up.

 

“You’re always out, Connor.”  His mom sounds just as tired as he feels and his punishment is annoying but not unexpected.  “You’re going to lose your driving privileges again for a week for leaving your sister at school to find her own way home.”  The  _ and on the first day, too _ is heavily implied but not verbalized.

 

He doesn’t deign to respond and leaves the room with an eye roll.  He walks silently up the stairs, not wishing to alert his little sister to his presence.  

 

He never has a chance to avoid her.

 

“Hey, asshole, where were you after school?”  Zoe stands at the stop of the stairs already, blocking his way to his sanctuary.  “Why’d you just abandon me there? God, I thought you’d wait at least a day before pulling this shit.  You’re lucky I have friends who are willing to drive me places. So where were you?”

 

_ One more night. _

 

“Out.”  He repeats his answer and Zoe is very predictable in her scoff and tapping toe.

 

She’s just like Cynthia in nearly every way.

 

“You’re always fucking out, Connor.”  She rolls her eyes at him and scowls down from her vantage point.  “Are you still on weed? Or have you moved on to the harder stuff by now?  Is that where you were? Did you finally move on to crack?”

 

He makes a valiant attempt to ignore her and ducks under her arm as he finishes climbing the stairs.  If he can just hold onto his temper for a few more seconds, just until he can lock himself in his room.

 

“I’m talking to you, asshole.”

 

He doesn’t answer.  He really wants to turn around and scream at her but he doesn’t.  The last thing he needs is Larry coming out and making his escape tomorrow even more unlikely.  Besides, Zoe doesn’t have any right to ask him any of this.

 

_ One more night _ .

 

“Connor!”

 

Surprisingly, her raised voice doesn’t make him angry.  “What, Zoe?” He doesn’t even sound angry. He just sounds tired.

 

He feels tired.

 

And apparently she hears that because she immediately stops her ranting and eyes him carefully.  “Never mind. You’re going to have to wait for me tomorrow. Jazz band tryouts begin after school.”

 

Oh, she was going to be absolutely furious come tomorrow night.  Last year the tryouts weren’t done until after 6:30, so he knows they have a longer window of time tomorrow than initially anticipated. He slips into his room and barely resists the urge to slam it shut.  He’s not angry right now, not really, so there’s no need to demonstrate that he is. 

 

How can he be angry when tomorrow he will be gone and out of their lives forever?

 

How can he be angry when he’s going to be with Evan on the wide open road after tomorrow?

 

He is angry, that won’t change, but he can restrain himself.  For a little bit. He just needs to make it until tomorrow afternoon and he’ll be gone.  Alive, but gone, and he doesn’t need to take the pills tonight to escape sooner. He just needs to be patient for a few more hours and then he’ll never have to see his family again. 

 

He thinks of Evan with his neatly combed dark blond hair and almost chubby cheeks that look out of place on an otherwise thin body.  The boy with the stammer who also doesn’t understand why someone thinks he’s interesting. The boy who is terrified of everything but Connor apparently, and he doesn’t  _ get it _ . 

 

He hadn’t expected Evan’s answer to be yes and after their afternoon hanging out, and now that he’s home and alone, he’s glad it was.  He hadn’t lied to Evan when he had told him he found him interesting. Connor finds Evan Hansen to be very interesting indeed.

 

Because who wouldn’t be intrigued by the boy who agreed to run away with the freak, the druggie, the school shooter?  Anyone who isn’t afraid of him is so fucking rare that he is considering postponing his suicide indefinitely just so he can enjoy the company of another person.

 

_ What the hell did you do to me Evan Hansen? _

 

He lounges lazily on his bed, listening to the sounds of the house and waiting for the sound of movement to cease before doing anything.  If he tried to pack while someone was still up and about, they would come in wondering what he was doing moving things around in his room this time in the evening.  If he tried to smoke, they would come in screaming and search his room and take all his weed. If he did anything, he would be bothered in some way, so he stayed motionless on his bed just mulling over the fact that this time tomorrow, he and Hansen would be well on their way to Yellowstone National Park.  

 

Well, Niagara first.  And probably other places.  But eventually they will make it to Yellowstone, sure.  He smirks at the memory of Evan’s face when speaking about some petrified forest he wants to see in Yellowstone.  He’s an odd tree loving nerd, that’s for sure.

 

Maybe he should tell Evan about his desire to see the archway in St. Louis.  Kid likes trees, likes to climb them, why not a metal tower that is taller than most trees?

 

His thoughts move to the very idea of the trip and he wrestles with himself again about what they’re about to do.  Connor can still make a different choice. He can. He’s not tied to Evan Hansen. But he doesn’t want to kill himself, not right now at least, not when a Very Interesting Boy is about to run away with him.  His desire to see this through to the end burns through his self hatred enough to keep himself laying still on the bed patiently.

 

A little bit after eleven, the light in the hall died and his parents’ bedroom door closed for the final time of the evening.  Giving it another minute or two to ensure no one was leaving their room again, he slowly sat up and slid off the bed to pack before he smoked.  He wasn’t about to risk discovery, not now.

 

He yanks his large duffel from the top shelf of his closet, toppling stacks of haphazardly folded shirts and sweaters he never intends to wear again.  The bag unzips noisily and he freezes, suddenly paranoid the entire house can hear the chaos in his room. 

 

When no one stirs, no one comes to investigate, he relaxes and starts to shove various articles of his favorite bits of clothing into the bag.  They’re all going to be a wrinkled mess, but he doesn’t really care because they’re road tripping and camping anyway. His winter shit is thrown into the bag as well along with the few things he owns that he absolutely cannot live without, including books and his paints.  If they’re going to eventually make it to Colorado and skiing, he wants to have his coat at the very least.

 

He smiles involuntarily as he packs his ten absolute favorite of his books carefully in among the shirts and jeans and socks.  They are his most valued treasured possessions, whisking him away whenever he wishes to a different world, a place where Connor Murphy isn’t the massive fuck up he is in real life.  He doesn’t dare take more, he fears if he does it will alert that he’s run away. He’d almost rather they think he’s dead at this point.

 

Bag full, he rummages around to find any other bags he might own to fit the rest of the shit he plans to take.  After a minute or so of searching, he emerges with a couple of worn backpacks and a hard shelled carry-on sized bag he thinks will be perfect for his weed paraphernalia.  He’s spent too much money on his glass to leave it behind or then have it break on the road.

 

He moves the plastic boxes filled with seasonal clothing under his bed aside to reach his locked steel box that contained his cash, sealed bottles filled with various bud strains, pipes and bongs, his little pestle and mortar for grinding, all his rolling equipment, and other various bits of shit he never wants anyone to find ever.  He doesn’t even bother opening the box, he just wraps it in a quilt and shoves it into the hard shell as extra padding. The two joints in his desk drawer are sitting next to a lighter and are going to be used soon enough that he doesn’t bother to pack them. One is for tonight, the other for sometime tomorrow.

 

Maybe when they reach Niagara.

 

When he’s done gathering what he’s bringing with him, tossing his three bottles of black polish in at the last minute, the room definitely looks like it’s missing the things that make his room him.  However, his family will not notice. To them, nothing will appear out of place, nothing to be missing, and that’s just what Connor had been hoping for. Pulling his lighter and one of the joints from the drawer, he slips out his window and onto the roof above, a move he’s perfected over his teenage years with only a few scary mishaps.

 

He nestles himself in where the two peaked roof bits meet and create a little seat for him where he’s mostly hidden from the world.  The lighter sparks as he lights the joint and it only takes a few drags for him to feel his muscles grow heavy and his head fill with the headiness of nothing and he smiles, joint dangling from loose fingers with a ribbon of white smoke drifting lazily up and dissipating into nothing.

 

He wonders if he should write any notes to his family, sort of ‘fuck you now I’m gone and you suck’ kind of thing, but he’s afraid if he took the time to write a note, more than a simple ‘fuck you’ would be written out and he really doesn’t want to bear his soul to his family on paper.  They’ve had their time to try and help him, now he’s going to do it himself.

 

The joint is half gone before he remembers that he should probably pack the two suitcases and the two backpacks into the Jeep before he gets too high to function.  Sighing, he snuffs the joint against a nail in the roof and slides it back into the protective sleeve to put back in his pocket. It’s a bit trickier getting back into his room, but he manages it with only a few of the lines on his arm opening rather than plummeting down to his death or at least hospital trip, so he’s thankful for that.

 

He glares at his door and then nudges the bags over to the window.  He has a four pronged grappling hook for this very reason.

 

Well, not for this reason.  He has a grappling hook because he found it and thought it was fucking sick and wanted to keep it.  Now he’s very glad he did because it will make a perfect hoist to lower his luggage so he can scale the window rather than attempt to sneak the front.  He unfurls the fire escape rope ladder that hides in the pile of sweaters in his closet before tying the bags to the hook. 

 

He groans when he attempts to lift the bags and quickly removes all but one.  He’s too high to remember things like weight and multiples and math and all he wants to do right now is finish the joint and go to sleep.  It’s another ten minutes of careful lowering and muttering under his breath before he’s able to climb down and hide his shit under the seats and amongst the blankets and other junk that is always in the back of the Jeep.

 

He eyes the two spare gas cans with interest and hopes he remembers to fill them tomorrow when he’s sober.

 

He’s going to be sober an awful lot, he realizes, because while he doesn’t care if he crashes while he’s driving, he doesn’t want to accidentally kill Evan because he was too stoned for his eyes to fully focus and he’s not about to let another person drive his car.  At least his weed will last him longer.

 

As he climbs back up the ladder and back up onto the roof to finish his joint, he grins and tosses his head back and giggles up at the starry night sky.  His Jeep is packed, he’s pleasantly high and about to become obliterated, and he fucking can’t wait for tomorrow.


	5. Evan's Last Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At this point, Evan is certain his mom thinks that text messages and sticky notes are an appropriate substitute for her presence. It certainly doesn’t help the tone for his second and last day of high school.
> 
> Or: Evan just wants to make it through today alive.

###  Evan

Every single thing about today has only served to remind Evan just why he is going to run away with Connor, from the moment he wakes up until the moment he sees Connor standing there in the doorway of the office at the dealer with a sheepish grin.

 

It begins at 6 am with the alarm on his phone waking him so suddenly his eyes flew open and he nearly started to hyperventilate from being woken at the absolute  _ wrong _ part of his sleep cycle.

 

He lay in his bed staring at the ceiling, alarm still chirping annoyingly yet he can’t seem to move.  His heart is still racing and he’s not sure if his paralysis is temporary or permanent, if it has been brought on by his anxiety or if someone had somehow snuck into his room and done something to him or maybe this is a delayed side effect of falling from the tree and the doctors had missed it since he never told them just exactly how he broke it, just that he had fallen on his arm wrong.

 

Which had been true.  He hadn’t intended on living past that 40 foot fall, so he had indeed fallen incorrectly.  He doesn’t feel that way any more, mostly. Sometimes. Most days he is simply okay with the idea that he survived. 

 

However, right now he is very, very panicked and very, very scared because he  _ cannot move  _ and oh-god-this-is-it-this-is-the-end-this-is-how-I-die and his breathing is so quick he’s amazed he’s still conscious and then…

 

He’s fine.  Except for his still racing heart and his overstimulated mind, he is absolutely fine.

 

Fuck, he’s an anxious mess.  Literally. All the time. Anything and everything can and has set it off but it’s never a guarantee so good luck finding out his triggers future potential friends!

 

God this is exactly why Jared dropped him as soon as being popular became important in middle school.

 

He swings his legs over the edge of his bed and sighs bitterly, trying to will his heart rate back down to a reasonable level.  Were this any other day, he would simply take a mental health day and go back to sleep, however today he absolutely cannot. He has to show his face at school and use the mental health excuse for tomorrow to give a three day weekend of sorts to delay the inevitable discovery of their disappearance and hopefully throw off any idea that they might have vanished together.

 

In other words, he has to somehow make it through today without being in a constant anxious panic and he can’t rely on Jared because he’s already been told that that’s not what family friends do and he can’t rely on Connor because after yesterday, in the eyes of the school they hate each other, and that’s how it needs to stay in order to keep them hidden once they leave.

 

Evan can still see the sour scowl Connor had worn when he had spat out the demand to ignore him at school.  It was startlingly for Evan to realize that Connor didn’t  _ want  _ to pretend that Evan and him didn’t know each other.  He hadn’t even thought through what he did. He had simply laid a hand on his arm, scarcely touching it, and said that he understood and what did 8 stupid hours alone at school mean when it was all that was in between now and freedom and two sort of pretend friends on the open road?

 

God, that brilliant smile transformed Connor’s face completely.  And Evan had caused that, in some way or another. Evan had had a strong, positive effect on another person.

 

Just for a split moment, he mattered to someone.

 

And that thought is what finally propels him out of his bed and into the bathroom to shower for the day.  As he uses each shower item, he makes sure it is properly sealed before setting it just outside the shower to pack later. 

 

Once done dressing for the day, he does the same thing with his toothbrush, towel, after hesitating for a moment in the kitchen thinking, takes a couple sets of dishes and silverware and one of the three full bottles of dish soap under the sink.  There must have been a very good sale for his mom to buy that many of a product they rarely even use at one time and he doubts she will notice one missing.

 

Thinking of his mom has him freezing and listening carefully for any sort of sound or noise.  He is so used to her never being home when he is that he forgets to double check that he’s alone when he needs to be.  Her being home his first day of senior year was quite honestly a fluke.

 

A ripped scrap of paper fluttering in the lightly moving air in the house has him scowling instantly.  He knows exactly what it’s going to say. It’s going to give him an excuse for why he hadn’t seen her last night and why he won’t see her today.  His scowl fades into confusion when all that was written was an invisible scribble, as if testing a pen and frustrated it wouldn’t show ink.

 

His phone vibrates and he glances at the screen. One new message from his mom containing everything he thought she would say.  She had to take an extra shift, had barely come home to shower and take a couple of hour nap before she had had to leave. But she loves him, honey, and to keep writing those letters!  There’s food in the fridge!

 

He resists the urge to throw his phone at the window and places it gently on the counter instead.  He can almost hear the satisfying crash it would make, but he also knew that someone might hear the noise and report it and his mom would have to replace the window and that would cost money she doesn’t have and that would only make him even more of a burden on her and isn’t that why he’s leaving in the first place?

 

His mom regrets having him.  She won’t say it, of course, that would hurt his feelings and that wasn’t Heidi Hansen’s style.  Regardless, she is never home, never around, never there when Evan needs her. They’ve gone weeks without actually seeing each other.  At this point, he’s certain Mom thinks that text messages are an appropriate substitute for her presence.

 

And if that doesn’t just ramp up his anxiety to 100...   
  


He stares at his phone and wishes he could send Connor a quick message, just a short ‘god, i can’t even get out of bed without having a panic attack’ and it’s odd because he’s never felt he could do that sort of thing with Jared and he’s the closest thing to a friend Evan has ever had.

 

He doesn’t, however.  He’d rather not provide the police evidence that they had known each other prior to their disappearances.  Calls and texts can be traced. Then something horrifying dawns on him.

 

They’re going to have to get rid of their cell phones.

 

Fuck.

 

He stares down at his duffel bag of clothing and various bits from his room he simply cannot leave behind.  He’s left his room just as it is, as if he’s simply stepped out and will be back soon.

 

Anything to keep up the illusion as long as possible.

 

He hides the things he’s taking with him under his bed just in case his mom comes home before school lets out and wonders if he and Connor will become more than pretend friends.  So far, his pretend friend is a lot nicer to him than his family friend, so Evan is more than willing to just go along with the ride for now without too much question.

 

Though, he wouldn't mind being real friends with Connor Murphy.

 

~~*~*~~

 

“Hey there, Acorn!”

 

Evan slams his locker door against the one next to his at the shock of Jared’s face appearing out of nowhere.  He hadn’t seen the other boy all day save for their brief, rather rude exchange at lunch, and had had to sit alone afterwards, but he strangely hadn’t cared because it is all pointless.  None of it matters anymore.

 

Because soon enough, to all of them he’ll be considered dead.

 

A thrum of excitement races through him and suddenly, he can deal with Jared’s stupid insults and mocking jokes.  He fleetingly wonders if Jared has remembered that they were best friends before Evan’s demotion to family friend.  He really hopes Jared isn’t here to insist that Evan needs to come over so Mrs. Kleinman can see they’re still friends and continue to pay Jared’s bills because he is terrible at saying no and he already has plans for this afternoon that he doesn’t want to cancel.

 

No, that he  _ can’t _ cancel.  He won’t do that to Connor.

 

Evan has no idea why Mrs. Kleinman even cares if Jared is friends with Evan.  She and Heidi barely talk anymore, so the whole idea of Evan and Jared being family friends is just stupid now and he definitely is not going over there if Jared is about to ask.  “Are...are you here to...to offer...here to offer me a….”

 

“God, no.”  Jared laughs and Evan chuckles weakly with him.  Even though he hadn’t wanted a ride home, it still hurts when Jared is so casual with just how much he doesn’t want Evan around.  “That’s why I’m here, actually. My cooler, actually talks to me instead of repeating nearly every word, friend wants to play video games so I’m taking them home to their house.  Dunno when I’ll need to hang out again. You get it, right?”

 

Evan’s eyebrows shoot up involuntarily.  Jared actually  _ does  _ have a friend that isn’t him?  

 

“I get it.”  

 

He doesn’t, not really.  This didn’t sound like the friends Evan was certain Jared had made up during his summers at camp, the ones Jared claim write him all the time yet he’s never seen any letters, the ones where Jared boasts about the things they send him yet he’s never actually shown Evan anything, saying the item is simply too cool for family friends to see.

 

“We’re only family friends.”

 

This sounds like a real friendship...

 

“See you later?”

 

...like the one he used to have with Evan.

 

Jared doesn’t even bother to respond.  He just huffs a little laugh and skip saunters away and out the front doors.

 

Evan wonders if the friend Jared is going to go see is the same friend Jared claimed he was to sit with earlier.  He scowls at the awkward moment that had happened over lunch. 

 

Jared doesn’t usually seek him out if he’s not going to eat with Evan, but it was as if he had made a point to find him just to mock how Evan had misspoken his own name when the teacher called roll in math before strolling away laughing and leaving Evan to struggle to hold himself together alone.

 

It sounds like Jared really and truly has finished replacing Evan.

 

Which is…

 

Good.

 

Actually.

 

This is very good.

 

This means Jared won’t worry as much if he can’t find Evan to mock him that day.  This means Jared won’t bother if he can’t see Evan at his lockers. He’ll simply assume they’re just missing each other and go off with his new,  _ real _ friend, leaving it that much more likely he’ll simply fade from everyone's memory until those who knew him wonder briefly sometimes if he had even existed in the first place.

 

For once, even with the hurtful things Jared had said, leaving a conversation with the boy he was once best friends with with hasn’t left him with nearly crippling anxiety about what was said or not said between the pair.  Evan simply didn’t care anymore because it would soon, very _ very _ soon no longer matter.

 

There’s no one left around to watch him walk the two blocks to the car lot where he knows Connor is waiting for him.

  
And when he sees the little half grin form on Connor’s face when he steps outside the car lot building and spots him, Evan knows he is making the right decision to leave with the other boy.


	6. Connor's Last Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’s a paranoid person by nature.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You're only getting so many chapters so quickly because they're already written. Haha. Posting will slow down dramatically once chapter 8 posts.

###  Connor

Every single thing about today has only served to remind Connor just why he is going to run away with fucking Evan Hansen of all people, from the moment he woke up until the moment he saw the idiot walking across the crumbling pavement of the used car lot towards the office.

 

It begins at 7:30 am when his sister starts screaming in his doorway that she’s leaving in fifteen minutes without him if he doesn’t get his ass moving and isn’t that a great way to wake up a teen with anger issues?

 

He barely resists throwing the book on his side table at her.  He throws his pillow instead and considers that progress. The angry screech she emits, however, tells him she absolutely does not and he isn’t at all surprised.  If he’s not perfect, he’s not making progress. That is how his life is here in the Murphy dictatorship. 

 

He regrets not showering last night before he passed out and wonders if Evan will let him shower while he’s packing this afternoon.  He doesn’t want to force Evan through smelling him after not showering already for four days and who knows when they’ll get another chance for one.  It’s bad enough he has to go to school like this now. 

 

He hates how he gets during depressive episodes.

 

He darts into the bathroom and scrubs at his teeth quickly because even if he can’t shower he can at least make his mouth feel good, and snags a muffin and banana from the counter as he shoulders his backpack and ducks out the door.

 

So far, so good.

 

Until Zoe gets into the car, too.  He glances in the rear mirror whenever she’s distracted to check that his suitcases are still properly hidden.

 

The car ride to school is filled with terse silence.  “Where were you actually, last night?” Zoe breaks it first and Connor scoffs.  The less he can say, the more likely it is he will make it through the day without giving it all away.

 

“Why the fuck would I tell you?”

 

“You used to!”  Zoe sounds almost heartbroken and it almost sets off his rage because what right does she have to be heartbroken over this when she’s made no effort to help him or listen to him?

 

He pointedly looks out the window away from her without answering and she thankfully takes the hint for once and falls silent.  

 

She doesn’t speak again until they’ve arrived at the school and it’s only to tell him to meet here at 6:30 when she’s done with tryouts or she’s leaving him behind.

 

She doesn’t notice when he swipes the Jeeps keys.

 

She never does.

 

He almost feels bad for her.

 

~~*~*~~

 

He had decided to put a moderate amount of effort into school today but lunch is when he decides that skipping the rest of the day would be best. 

 

Connor sits in the lunchroom in his usual secluded corner, eating his usual turkey sandwich, and watching Evan Hansen sitting in his usual seat alone at the other end of the cafeteria.  Watching Evan Hansen is a bit outside his normal routine, but his normal routine hasn’t been in place since Junior year and since this is only the second day of Senior year, he can’t possibly have a true routine yet.  

 

He won’t, either, because he and Hansen are going to be far from here by this time tomorrow and won’t need to worry about stupid things like school routines.  He’s enjoying his last lunch watching the room, observing all the fuckers he’ll never have to see again.

 

One of his least favorite of his classmates just happens to be Evan’s friend - at least, Connor had always assumed them to be friends.  Evan told him last night that they aren’t, that their moms are friends and that Jared has to be nice to Evan or he’ll have to pay his own car insurance.

 

Seriously, Jared Kleinman is a fucking ass.

 

And he’s Connor Murphy, the king of the asses, so he should know the signs of another one.

 

He watches as Jared stops with his tray next to Evan, and he winces at the naked hope in Evan’s eyes as he looks up at the other.  When the standing boy tosses his head back and laughs mockingly before walking away to sit with someone else, Connor can hear the mockery from here, Evan’s face falls and he sees red.  What could that kid have possibly done or said to offend Jared? Evan’s as offensive as a potato!

 

However, instead of walking over and pummeling Jared or walking over and sitting with Evan so that kicked puppy look would disappear, he ditches the rest of the day to take care of what he can without Evan.

 

He feels like an ass leaving him like that, but they agreed last night to not let people know they know each other, no matter how much it fucking sucks.  So Connor knows Evan can handle it for a few hours because Kleinman being Kleinman isn’t enough to risk people finding out that they’re kind of sort of friends, that they’re in this whole vanishing trick together, because if people find that out then they could find  _ them _ and neither boy wants that.

 

He starts with taking the credit card he swiped from his mom’s wallet to the sporting goods store in the next town over in the opposite direction to Niagara to stock up on any sort of supplies he can think of that they might need.  If anyone traced the card to the town, hopefully they will assume he made his way north instead of west.

 

He takes a moment to scan the store to gather his bearings and think about what sorts of things they might need.  He first snags a couple of extreme cold sleeping bags and some extra blankets. It’s been a few years since he was camping, but he remembers how chilly the nights could get even in the summer and it was September now and bound to be even colder.

 

Remembering those cold nights camping has him examining the aisle with various lighting and heating apparatuses.  He tosses a propane powered heater into the cart along with a couple of lanterns and thinks about what sort of car he wants to eventually trade to.  Possibly a Subaru, or maybe Jeep? He’ll miss his Jeep something fierce, but he shouldn’t hold on to too much from what he’s trying to escape, right?

 

Thinking of which, he should also buy one of those car bed air mattresses, shouldn’t he?  He stares at the various sizes and lengths and realizes that maybe he should wait until they know what car they’ll be living out of first.  He eyes the cart and thinks about what else they need.

 

What are the basic human necessities - food, water, clothing, shelter?   Sounds correct enough to Connor.

 

Cooking supplies should be next, he supposes.  They would need to eat, of course, and to eat they would need to either cook or eat out at fast food places, and while Connor isn’t too set on cooking, he’s also not too keen on spending all their money on restaurants since he’s going to be shredding the stolen card and tossing it into a dumpster as soon as he leaves here.

 

He eventually decides on both a camping stove and a firepit converter set.  Might as well have some options for meals, right? And maybe Evan already knows how to cook.  He sees a nifty roll top kitchen thing and picks that out for good measure as well as a couple of sizes of cast iron skillets and a cast iron dutch oven for the fire pit.  A couple of mess kits make their way into the cart, and he tosses in a few liter metal water bottles and a variety of water purifying apparatuses, as well. Water is life, after all.  

 

He stops and stares for a long while at a 12 volt mini fridge/freezer combination for a car.  It’s large enough for two people and their groceries, so long as they pack it correctly. The nearly $1,500 price tag has him cringing but he’s also still extremely tempted.  They’ll need a place to put food and drinks to keep cold, and it isn’t as if he’s spending his own money right now.

 

He adds the box to the cart.

 

That covers it all, Connor is pretty sure.  At least for the basic necessities. However, he spots a portable shower on his way to the check out and realizes there’s a lot of home comforts they’ll be doing without and barely hesitates before flying through the store and picking up anything else that could make their camping lives more comfortable.  He’s running away to be happy, not pile on more misery. 

 

The cart is soon loaded to the brim with a host of camping supplies including a small tent for just in case they don’t want to sleep in the car or they don’t have the car for some reason, a couple of really fancy reclinable camping chairs because sitting on the ground is for chumps, a portable picnic table that folds down to an impossibly small size for what it is, a hefty first aid kit because he had been a boy scout at one point thank you very much, a very long rope and a tarp, a hatchet/shovel/pick combination thingy that he knows will be useful at some point, and as a last minute decision he snags a couple of hammocks and a roll of solar string lights because whatever car they get he wants to put lights on the inside where they’re going to sleep.

 

He’s always wanted fairy lights in his room.

 

He doesn’t even pay attention to the total, and the cashier doesn’t bother to ask for an ID even when Cynthia has clearly written on the back of her card to do so to prevent Connor from using it.

 

Clearly there is a flaw in the system.

 

It’s nearly three in the afternoon when he’s finally finished loading the Wrangler and he scowls at the clock.  He’s barely going to make it before Evan is out of his last class and he puts a rush on getting the cart into the cart rack in the parking lot.  He’s an asshole, but he’s not that inconsiderate.

 

None of the cars are super exciting as he looks over them, and he’s thankful for that.  He would hate to fall in love with the car when he’s only buying it to later trade for something better.  His phone pings and he pulls it out of his pocket to turn off the vibrating alarm signaling that if Evan follows the plan, he will be leaving the school about now and to him in about ten minutes.

 

He pulls aside the salesman and tells him the car he’s going to buy.  He chooses a Honda Fit because it has enough room for their gear and does decent gas mileage.  His plan is to drive tomorrow until the gas is nearly out and then find a dealership and get their final car there.

 

The trade is moving quicker than Connor had been anticipating, and he’s a little suspicious of that fact and he changes his mind.  Something fishy is going on, either with the deal for his Jeep or something is horribly wrong with the Fit, either way Connor refuses to finish the trade  The man protests, but Connor takes his keys back and rips up the paperwork. Perhaps this isn’t the best place to be doing this sort of thing, but then he’s not worrying anymore because he sees a blue shirt in the distance coming down the sidewalk and he’s relieved.

 

Something in him must have been terrified that Hansen wasn’t going to follow through, that Connor was being strung along and he hadn’t even realized it because the amount his body relaxes when seeing the other boy is pretty goddamn dramatic.  

 

All his doubt fades when he pushes the door open and steps into the bright sunlight and he lays eyes on the boy he’s decided is going to be his best friend because Evan is  _ here _ .  Evan meant everything he had said yesterday and Connor has never been so goddamned happy to see another face before in his life.

 

When he steps outside and sees the expression on Evan’s face as it brightens at the sight of  _ him _ , Connor knows they are making the right decision.

 

He knows, and he can’t wait.

 

He stands silently waiting for Evan to be within earshot to avoid shouting.  “I’m not trading the Jeep here. Super janky.”

 

Evan blinks and then nods jerkily.  “Oh, okay.” He’s fidgeting with his hands and it’s making Connor on edge because every fiddle of the casted hand causes a wince on the blond boy’s face and he won’t stand for that.  

 

He touches Evan’s hand gently and says, “Stop.”

 

Evan does and the fingers move to picking at the edge of the already fraying cast.  “I had an...I thought of something this morning.”

 

Anxiety Boy thinking about things?  What a concept. “Okay.” Connor replies in an effort to not voice his sarcastic thoughts and unlocks the Wrangler and motions for Evan to get in.  He does.

 

“Okay.”  Evan repeats and wrinkles his nose.  “I think we’ll need...We’re going to need new phones.”  He holds his up briefly before allowing it to drop back by his side.  “They can track GPS using your phone.”

 

The jeep roars to life and he’s pulling out of the used car lot faster than he had entered.  “No.” Connor is not buying a new phone. He doesn’t give two shits about if anyone other than Evan knows where he is or if he’s alive and has pretty much zero numbers on his phone anyway and he tells Evan this.  His phone has all his information on it as well as his games and his photos. He is not getting rid of his phone.

 

“But...but they can track phones, Connor!  Once they realize we’re missing, they’re going to try and find us and the first two things they’ll try are bank account usage and phone usage!”

 

Obviously the kid watches a lot of those true crime documentaries and shows.  Or his anxiety makes him extremely paranoid.

 

More likely both.

 

He also finds it a bit amusing that Evan’s stammer seems to disappear when he’s passionately arguing something.

 

Instead of saying any of his observations about his companion, Connor scoffs at the idea of his parents searching for him.  “You maybe. Not me. No one gives a shit about me, remember? Hence the pills and the orchard idea I had going on?”

 

Evan shoots him a very unimpressed look and proceeds to ignore the comment about his abandoned suicide plan.  “But that doesn’t change the fact that they, the police I mean, will use the phones to find us.”

 

_ Don’t roll your eyes, don’t roll your eyes, don’t….you motherfucker, you just rolled your eyes! _ “So you just take out the SIM card.”  At least Evan isn’t reacting to the eye roll, and even if he is, he’s not acting like Zoe or Larry or Cynthia so he’s thankful for that.

 

At least, Connor is fairly certain Evan’s hand wringing is due to the phone discussion, not Connor.  “And what if they figure out we left together?”

 

“We’re eighteen.”

 

“Your parents can still try and claim you need an adult even when you’re eighteen if you have been proven to be unsafe to yourself.”

 

The implied  _ if you’ve ever been committed _ hangs between them and Connor sighs. 

 

Evan needs to stop bringing up good points.  Connor wants to be done with the discussion. “Fine.  We both remove the SIM cards from our phones.” He’s not getting rid of his phone.

 

End of story.

 

“We need to be able to access the internet and apps like weather and maps.”  Evan points out logically and Connor resists the urge to bang his head against the car door by gripping at the cuffs of his sweatshirt and tugging.

 

The stupid nerd is right, of course.  And he desperately wants the conversation to be  _ over _ .  “Oh my god, Evan, fine, we’ll go to Walmart and pick up a fucking cheap ass phone without a contract.  Then will you take the SIM cards out and be happy?”

 

“Yes.  As long as we save the SIM cards for...”

 

“...later, just in case we need them.  Yeah, I figured you’d say that.” And everyone calls  _ him _ paranoid.

 

They fall into silence for a bit save for the rolling of the wheels against pavement until he hears Evan snicker and quip quietly, “I see you bought out REI.”  Connor turns to see Evan holding up the box for the tent heater and set of water guns with an amused sort of smile.

 

Oh, he really is about to go traveling with a sassy pants.  “Do you want to sleep in a cold car when it snows? Because I don’t.”  He sounds a little more threatening than he had been aiming for but he lets it go.  He doesn’t want to scare Evan away, just tease him a bit, and he hadn’t sounded  _ harsh _ just...irritated.

 

God, he’s bad at this friend business.

 

Evan lifts his eyes upward for a brief moment as if praying for patience and throws the box back onto the pile with a little shit eating grin.  “I’m sorry. I should have said thank you for buying out REI, Connor.” He bites his cheek to keep himself from laughing, choosing to glare at the other boy instead.  It doesn’t deter Evan. “Are the water guns so we can hunt ethically?”

 

Connor’s sudden irritation turns into a laugh and he tells himself to chill the fuck out because out of everyone he knows, Evan is the least likely to have hidden cruelty behind his words.  “You’re an oddly confident little shit right now.” He’s noticed that Evan hasn’t stuttered really since they left the dealership and it’s sort of jarring to hear his words come out mostly smoothly.

 

Evan seems surprised to realize that his stutter has been absent the last half hour or so and his face screws up in thought.  “I suppose it’s the idea that I’m leaving everything behind. Things don’t seem as big right now.”

 

Oddly enough, Connor understands what Evan is trying to say.  “Well, you are welcome for the mobile REI. Do you mind if I shower at your house while you pack?”

 

“Oh, I finished.”

 

Connor stares at Evan in disbelief.  “Of course you did.” He finished last night, of course, but he hadn’t imagined for some reason that Evan had packed yet.

 

“But!”  Evan nearly screams with the way he tries to explain.  “You can….Of course you can....feel free to shower!” God, when the anxiety hits, it hits hard.

 

“Thanks, Hansen.”  He says dryly, and turns when the directions inform him to do so.  “You can relax, you know.”

 

“You can … you know, not be angry all the time.”  Evan mutters in return and Connor nearly high fives him.

 

“Sarcasm, nice.”  Damn, he sounds pleased as fuck and Evan’s flush tells him he heard it loud and clear.

 

“I was just...just trying to show that..that..”

 

“Hansen, I get it.”  Connor doesn’t want the stammering to return.  Evan’s just gotten comfortable around him, he can’t have that go away.  “Asking you to relax is like telling me to calm down. Equally unhelpful.”  He glances at the car clock. It was nearly 5 now and they had an hour and a half before Zoe would realize Connor was gone.

 

They pull into the driveway of a one story red brick house with white trim and Evan gives a little sigh of relief at the emptiness of the pavement.  “Mom already left for work.” He’s holding a scrap of paper that must have been sitting on the kitchen table with a sad look in his eyes. “Probably before I even had time to hop on the bus.”

 

Connor couldn’t help but feel a stab of pity for the other boy.  It wasn’t a wonder to him why Evan has anxiety. Alone and isolated with no friends - Connor won’t count Jared after what he witnessed at lunch today - and absent parents?  It is enough to drive anyone insane. It certainly didn’t  _ help _ the anxiety at any rate.

 

Connor’s family may hate him, they might yell and scream and accuse him of horrible things, but at least he’s not isolated like a princess up in a tower.  He feels alone, he  _ is _ alone emotionally, but he at least has his family around him.

 

Evan has had no one, not really.  Connor probably would have jumped from the tree, too.

 

He follows Evan through the house, noting the pictures showing a timeline of Evan’s growth.  The pictures also tell a story of a father who vanishes sometime when Evan appears to be around six, seven, or eight.  It’s hard to tell with photos someone’s age, sometimes. They enter the second door on the left, Evan pointing out the bathroom as they pass the first door, and Connor can’t help but smile at the simplicity of Evan’s bedroom. 

 

Evan hesitates in the center of the room, twisting his hands around and refusing to meet Connor’s eyes.  “Well.” He threw his hands out suddenly, though his body still retained the posture of one who was extremely uncomfortable.  “You can use any towel from the cupboard in in the bathroom, just put it in the hamper when you’re done.”

 

Connor looks up from where he is examining a surprisingly detailed model of a redwood tree, painted carefully and put in a place of honor in the center of the dresser.  “You said you’re done packing?”

  
Evan nods sharply but doesn’t respond with any words, looking out the window instead.  His eyes look haunted, like he’s thinking of some pretty dark stuff, but Connor has no idea what to say so he doesn’t say anything save for a muttered  _ thanks _ before he slips out of the room to shower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The powered cooler thing is real and I want one for camping now. 
> 
> https://www.rei.com/product/144840/dometic-cfx-95dzw-powered-cooler
> 
> Also, don't take your Mom's credit card and use it, kids. Don't be like Connor.
> 
> Trip all begins next chapter.


	7. And They're Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 0
> 
> The boys bond over music

 

### Evan

 

He is so far lost in his thoughts he barely registers Connor’s voice or him leaving the room to shower.  The odd sort of calmness that had gotten him through the day is starting to fade and he hates that he’ll probably return to the stammering, anxious mess he usually is.  He looks out the window at the tree that almost scrapes the glass unseeing.

 

He’s thinking of his mom.

 

It isn’t like Evan had been hoping his mom would be home, the very opposite in fact.  

 

So why is he disappointed he won’t have a chance to see her one more time?  Probably because she is his mom and he loves her. But he almost never sees her, he almost never talks to her outside of the texts, and it’s almost as bad as his father only his mom at least makes an effort to reach out to him on the rare moments they’re home at the same time.

 

He thinks about her little before-school speech the first day where she asked him to not think so negatively about his first day, to have a little bit of optimism about his lack of friends and lack of social skills.  Does that even count as trying?

 

He hears the water turn on and smiles a little at the sound.  He may not have been optimistic about yesterday, but something positive did come from it.  He has a friend now, well a pretend one anyway. Someone who apparently wants to be around him enough that he’s invited Evan to run away with him.  Don’t runaways usually go alone? Why would Connor want Evan along?

 

It’s pretty apparent to Evan that Connor is as lonely as Evan is, especially if he’s willing to be even fake friends with a pathetic loser such as Evan.  The water shuts off and Evan startles. He needs to do one last sweep of the room and he’s been sitting staring at the wall for long enough that Connor’s already done showering.

 

He pulls the two bags out from under his bed and double checks the contents to ensure he’s packed enough and eyes his bed carefully.  He can’t take his bedspread, and he doesn’t care so much about that, but he wants the quilt his grandmother made for him and wonders if his mom would notice it gone from the closet.  He only uses it in the coldest of months so by the time she realizes it’s not there, hopefully it will be after she realizes Evan is gone.

 

And hopefully that doesn’t happen for a couple of weeks, at least.

 

He drops his bags by the door and scribbles a quick note to his mom.

 

 _"Mom, if you come home before I get back, I’m at either Ellison or Lucien Morin.  I couldn’t decide so I’ll make the choice there, but I’ll be home later.”_   he's a liar, he's always known this, but he's not sure he's ever written such a blatant one to his mother before.

 

“I can’t believe you’re leaving a note.”

 

He jumps and spins around.  Connor stands dressed with his hair still dripping a little in the doorway to the kitchen.  Evan sighs and leaves the note on the table near where her note to him still sits with the rest of the scraps of paper and slips his jacket back on.  “Sorry! Um, but if I...if I don’t, she worries. She makes lots of phone calls and panics. The first time she came home when I was out, she called the police and I would really like to avoid another one of those horribly embarrassing conversations.”

 

“So, she what?  Worries you’ll be kidnapped or something?”  Connor’s eyes narrow and Evan cringes.

 

The fingers of his non-casted hand start to fiddle with the hems of his jacket.  “Erm, maybe she worries about that? I wouldn’t know what she worries about. She’s very rarely home when I am because she sleeps while I’m at school and generally is gone to class by the time I’m home and she goes directly to work most days and occasionally I see her in between, or if she’s home and the weather is bad, but I like to stay at the park rather than home because who wants to stay in a house that is silent and cold and lonely and she probably actually thinks I want to kill myself and she’d be right sometimes and goddamnit please tell me to stop talking because I can’t stop-”

 

Shit, he’s rambling again. The rambling is almost worse than the stammering because he really truly can’t stop until someone else speaks to him, interrupts him.  Luckily, he’s with Connor who Evan had realized during their planning session has a very short fuse and won’t hesitate to talk over him if need be.

 

“Evanescence, chill.”

 

It works.  He gasps, pressing a hand to his chest as if it will help him draw in more air before continuing at a far more normal rate of speech.  “And she won’t even notice that the note is the exact same as the day before. I’ve written those exact words nearly every time I’m out when she comes home.”  He’s pretty sure she’s certain he has a part time job at the parks with how often he’s out of the house and there. He might have not dissuaded her from the idea, either.

 

It’s usually one or two weeks between sightings, though they’ve gone nearly four weeks on a rare occasion, so they’ll be far enough away from New York they should be safe from unwanted discovery.

 

He hopes.   He’s going to try not to think about it.  Wasn’t that the whole point of running away?  So they didn’t have to think about the difficult things in life?

 

He assumes so.

 

“Why the fuck did you agree to run away if you know she’s just going to be looking for you?”

 

Connor’s incredulously voiced question is a valid one.  “I’m not...I don’t…” Evan groans under his breath and then shrugs before saying in one breath, “I don’t think she will even notice I’m gone.”  He clamps his mouth shut so he doesn’t ramble again. He could go on for days about how his mother makes him feel, most of it not very positive.

 

The light jacket he’s wearing suddenly feels heavy and oppressive and he itches to get out of the house.  His mother has her overnight shift tonight and then immediately has a class, so she won’t even be home until near 3 tomorrow afternoon just before he gets off of school for the weekend and that’s only for a brief nap before she goes back to work.

 

They will definitely be safe from discovery by Heidi Hansen for a couple of weeks.  His phone alarm beeps and he glances at the phone to swipe it off. 5:30 pm. He can still back out.

 

“We should get going.”  

 

Evan jumps at Connor’s voice and stares at the other boy wided eyed for just a moment past uncomfortable before he relaxes and fumbles with the passenger door handle so he can slide in and sit.  

 

He’s not going to back out.

 

He doesn’t want to back out.

 

He is excited for something for the first time in probably a decade.

### Connor

 

“You can choose music first.”  He doesn’t particularly wish to doom himself to an eternity of listening to stupid ASMR or nature sounds or classical or whatever shit Hansen is bound to listen to, but he also doesn’t want to start the trip on the wrong foot and the last thing he wants is to make Evan feel like Connor doesn’t want him along.

 

Because he does.  To his immense surprise, he very much wants Evan there.  He might not know the kid very well, hardly at all in fact, but it’s a damn sight better than being completely alone.  Besides, there wouldn’t even _be_ a trip without Evan.

 

He unplugs his phone from the jack and holds the connector out to Evan and braces himself for a couple of hours of music hell.

 

“Oh, um.  Okay. Sure.”  Evan takes the offered AUX cord and snaps his phone into place.  The car is filled with the sound of clicks and taps and then the screen goes black before Connor can glimpse what Evan’s chosen for them.

 

He almost slams the brake pedal in shock when something that sounds a lot like metal plays through the speakers, but he doesn’t recognize the artist.  He almost comments on it but then he recognizes the lyrics as one of Zoe’s favorite pop songs and _then_ nearly swerves off the road.  “What in the fresh hell are we listening to?”  Anger is the only way he knows how to express his confusion, and the look Evan shoots him is one of amusement and fear combined.

 

Connor’s not sure if the fear is of him or just his anxiety.  His gut reaction is to assume fear of him, and while he’s learning not to assume things about Evan Hansen, his gut reaction is sometimes what wins over.  He doesn’t want Evan to be afraid of him. He wants to be the one person that Evan _isn’t_ anxious around.

 

And then Evan is responding and the words come out all in one breath.  “His name is Jonathan Young and I found him on Youtube through his friend Caleb because I like Caleb’s covers for Steven Universe and then I found Jonathan’s metal versions of Disney songs and I now I can’t stop listening to him and you seem the type to enjoy rock and metal so I thought I’d share but if you don't like it we can play something else it certainly wouldn’t be the first time I was wrong about someone and what they like or want.”

 

It’s amazing Hansen doesn’t pass out at the end of his run-on sentences.  He’s also impressed that Evan hadn’t needed a verbal cue to stop, either.

 

The car is silent save for the vocals from the stereo for only a heartbeat.  “Well, you’re not wrong.” He finally admits, because the dude’s voice is nice to listen to, and the instrumentals are actually pretty legit. Then a very familiar Bon Jovi rift comes across the speakers and his eyes widen. “Wait, is this...Livin’ on a Prayer?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“ _Wild_.”  It’s the only word he can think of to describe it.

 

They pass the time in silence, only the music breaking the stillness of the car.  Connor just watches the stretch of black asphalt rumble under the car and Evan has his head propped against the window, staring at the cloud dotted sky.

 

The song switches again and Connor perks up at the familiar beginning chords of one of his favorite angsty songs.  Part way through, he can’t keep quiet anymore and pipes up with “oh, fuck me, this is a good cover of In The End.”

 

“ _Right_?”

 

Another long pause gives him time to mull over the oddity that is Evan Hansen.  He certainly doesn’t _seem_ like a person who would be into the heavier rock and metal, but who knows?  Maybe he only likes the metal versions of those light, pop-y songs. “You wouldn’t happen to maybe listen to Linkin Park?”  Instead of answering, the sound of electric clicking intertwines with the music as Evan flips through his music library.

 

The sound of Meteora blasted over the sound system.  “Shit, Hansen. This is a relic.” He tries to quell his surprise into bland amusement.  It is a delicate balance of vocal tone he likes to think he’s perfected.

 

“Arguably their best.”  Evan says matter-of-factly and Connor can’t help the incredulous huff that escapes.

 

“In what universe, Hansen?”

 

“Mine.”  

 

God, there he was again with the unexpected bits of confidence.  He scoffs and changes lanes. “Your universe is stupid then. Obviously it was Hybrid Theory.”  And then he adds almost without thinking, “and Zoe would probably argue Minutes to Midnight.”

 

There’s a bit of a hesitation before Evan replies and when he does, his voice is a little hesitant but steady.  “Wrong. You are both very, both _incredibly_ wrong.”

 

“I’ll show you wrong, Hansen.”  He mumbles and then slaps at his forehead when Evan snickers and mutters _that’s what she said_ under his breath.  The song changes to Numb and he’s grateful for the distraction from just how awkward he can get.  “Oh, shit this song is on Meteora? I might need to change to my ranking.”

 

When the next song that plays is Breaking the Habit, Connor groans loudly.  He can’t win today. “Fine! They’re tied, Hybrid and Meteora.”

 

Evan shoots him a tiny little smirk.  “I can concede to that.”

 

The smirk throws Connor for a loop.  “I don’t understand you, Hansen.”

 

The hazel eyes are tired as Evan huffs a laugh and turns to look at Connor.  “There’s not much to understand. I like trees and photography and not being around people.  Very simple.”

 

How dare he sound so flippant when Connor’s not?  “I’m being serious right now. You’re a complex individual, Evan Hansen.”

 

“I am not.”  Evan doesn’t sound argumentative.  He sounds weary, like he’s stating a fact that he’s had to remind someone of multiple times, and Connor is filled with a sudden rage at every single person that has made Evan feel like he is nothing, like he is boring and dull and uninteresting, when everything about him is the exact opposite.

 

“ _Evan._ ”

 

“ _Connor_.”

 

The car is silent again save for the grungy sounds of Linkin Park, Connor wishing he could find the words that would make everything better.

 

“Hey, Hansen?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Put that Jonathan guy on again when the album’s done.”

 

Evan gives him a sort of frozen stare of shock, as if he couldn’t quite comprehend that someone actually enjoyed listening to the same things he did.  “Why?”

 

There are a lot of reasons Connor could give him that will answer the question why and 99% of them are hella gay.  He settles for a shrug and a casual response. “Seems like a decent way to find an artist we both like, since he does covers and all.”

 

He tries not to flush under Evan’s intense, serious stare.  “And you say you’re not smart.”

 

He fails.  “Shut up.”

 

They ride out the last few songs in silence.  They’re only an hour or so away from the town of Niagara when he hears to the tap tapping of the phone as Evan clicks about through his list and then shuffles Jonathan again.  

 

Three songs in, Boulevard of Broken Dreams plays and Connor’s eyes light up.  “Evan.”

 

He lets out another snort as the phone starts to click again as he scrolls.  “Of course I have Green Day. What self-deprecating, angsty teenager doesn’t?”

 

When American Idiot starts to blast over the speakers, Connor decides that Evan is his new best friend.  “Evan, I can no longer hold to the idea that you are just a pretend friend.”

 

Oh wait, didn’t he already think of this?  He nearly frowns but remembers just in time he had that last question inside his head and doesn’t want Evan to think he is frowning about being friends with him.  The other is anxious enough to take that away from the action.

 

Huh.  He just thought about how something he does affects...someone else?  Who is he and what did he do with himself? _Holy shit, I finally did something that wasn’t destructive?_

 

“What?  Have I upgraded to family friend?”  Bitter is not a good sound for Evan and Connor very suddenly is filled with the desire to have that tone vanish forever, at least when talking with him.

 

“No.  I mean you’ve been upgraded straight to best friend status.”  Belatedly, he remembers what Evan has told him about his and Kleinman’s friendship and winces a little at his insensitivity.  He could have approached this whole thing a lot better.

 

“Oh, um.  Wow.” Evan sounds genuinely surprised and Connor feels a twinge of sadness at the thought of this shy, unassuming boy never having someone admit they want to be around him.  The sadness ebs away when Evan grins brightly at him, showing mostly straight teeth and crinkling the corners of his eyes. “What, no application necessary?”

 

He finds a corner of his own mouth quirking up against his will.  Damn it. “Nope. You were the only one who came to apply.” Shit, now he’s the one who sounds horribly pathetic.

 

A long beat of silence where Evan stares at him without blinking passes between them.  “That’s kind of sad, Connor, if I’m being honest.”

 

He would be mad if not for the fact that Evan had said it with such a lack of pity or amusement he just shrugs with his small smirk still in place.  “Hey, embrace reality, right?”

 

“Right.”  Christ, he didn’t realize just how sarcastic a person could sound before Evan.

 

“Besides, we kinda became friends the moment you agreed to do this with me.”

 

Evan gapes at him openly and he barely has time to remember that he had only offered pretend friendship and had never corrected the mistake when Evan reaches out to flick at his ear and huffs at him.  “It would have been nice to be told that at the time, you asshole.”

 

He dodges the pinching fingers and snickers.  “Evan Hansen, I can’t believe you just _swore_.  And insulted me at the same time!”

 

“Again, I am an angsty teenager, Connor!”  Evan’s nose is scrunched and he’s scowling at Connor with narrowed eyes and he bites his lip briefly before deciding teasing his best friend will be worth it.  “And you are an asshole.”

 

“And you have a legitimate bucket list.”  Connor can’t hold it in any more and full on giggles.  He can’t get past the idea that a real life, sitting-in-his-car teenage boy made a _bucket list_ .  Evan had tried to insist that they make one for their trip, but he had shut down _naming_ it as a bucket list.  Connor doesn’t think he’s that pathetic, not yet anyway.

 

“You shut up right now Connor Murphy, bucket lists are a great way to start planning your life if you have absolutely no idea what you want to do with it!”

 

Connor only laughs harder and pulls off the highway when he sees a gas station sign.  “I want snacks.” Damn his voice for still wobbling from the laugh tears in his throat that are quickly changing to real ones.  “Tell me what you want and I’ll go get it so you don’t have to talk to the terrifying person that works at the counter.” He wants to be done thinking about the future.  The entire point of this whole running away road trip thing was to just live in the here and now.

 

“I want corn nuts and root beer.”  Evan replies with a tilted head that Connor absolutely does not think is adorable.  

 

“Done.  Can you handle pumping the gas?”  No people, no money to exchange, it’s perfect for the little nervous vibrator.

 

Evan’s face takes on a mildly affronted expression, pinched brows and all.  “Yeah. Yes, of course.”

 

“Cool.”  He’s going for casual, but all he can think about is Evan’s stupid bucket list now as he swings his legs out of the car and strides quickly over to the empty convenience store.  

 

Seriously, who the hell has an actual, true to life bucket list?  Apparently Evan Tree Boy Hansen does and he apparently still thinks Connor needs one.  Fuck his life. At least Evan is cute, sweet, and probably the least judgemental person he’s ever met in his life.  He supposes it could be worse. He could be with Jared Kleinman.

 

Actually, scratch that.  He’d rather have died than be with Jared Kleinman.

 

He eyes the rows of snacks and debates with himself between chocolate or chewy candies?  Chips or pretzels? He scowls at all the choices and eventually just starts picking up random items.  He’s not picky, and if Evan is, he’s bound to like at least one of the very many snacks and drinks Connor eventually ends up purchasing.

 

Fuck, they should probably go grocery shopping.

 

Eh, tomorrow.  They can get fast food for dinner tonight.

 

### Evan

 

Their first official destination is Yellowstone.  Neither wants to be anywhere close to New York when they’re inevitably discovered as missing and Evan has always wanted to see the geysers and hotsprings of the national park and Connor just wants to set up the hammock and get high in the forest with no worries for a week straight.  And when Evan mentions that the park will have fewer tourists due to school starting up again, Connor is all on the train to Yellowstone-ville.

 

But that is still a few days off.

 

It’s when they’re staring at the mess of boxes that contain the apparatuses needed for meal prep that Evan comes to a frightening realization - neither of them know how to properly cook.

 

“I can’t believe I didn’t think about this.”  

 

“Stop panicking.”  Connor sounds exasperated through his tired tone.  “We’ll just go to Barnes and Noble or something tomorrow and find a couple of camping cookbooks.  We’ll be fine.”

 

Problem meet solution.  Neat, clean, concise. It is the fastest way to shut down a fledgling panic fueled rant.

 

Evan has never been so thankful for another human being before in his life.  His mom never seems to know what to say, no matter how hard she tries, and all Jared seems able to do is mock Evan no matter the situation, but Connor seems to have a knack for saying the right thing, even if it is usually heavily veiled in either sarcasm or dull, lifeless tones.  “Technically, we would be going today because it is after midnight right now.”

 

“Oh my _god_ , Hansen.”  Connor’s laugh is light, nearly as airy as the wind through the deciduous trees around them that has Evan shivering and scrambling awkwardly onto the hammock Connor had declared as Evan’s.

 

From his perch in one of the hammocks, Evan can hear Connor muttering curses as he fiddles with the rear hatch, trying to lock it.  It’s a warm enough night they’ve decided to just sleep out on in some trees in a park near Niagara after realizing that the back of the Jeep is not currently set up for living and not wishing to fiddle with a tent for only one night.

 

The Jeep door slams shut and Connor’s boots make damp thuds on the forest earth as he makes his way towards Evan and the other swinging hammock bed.

 

Evan zips up the sleeping bag around him and listens to the rustling as Connor situates himself on his own hammock and sleeping bag combo and stares up at the star studded sky silently.  He almost likes the void of the universe as much as he does trees.

 

Almost.  Trees win only because one can physically touch a tree without any special equipment or training.  All you needed was a tree and a part of the body that could sense feeling and et voila! Touching a tree.  It is a lot more difficult to accomplish this feat with space.

 

“Hey, Evan?”  Comes Connor’s voice after the fabric rustling ceases.

 

“Hmm?”  He needn't have worried at all.  He has never felt this comfortable before.  The sky is clear and the stars are twinkling and Evan almost feels at peace and it's just the oddest sensation.

 

“I want to go to St. Louis.  I’ve always wanted to go up the Arch.”

 

Evan doesn’t even want to protest, to say that they are heading to Yellowstone.  They agreed that if it was on the way to their decided destination, any place is fair game.  He’s never been outside of New York, not really, so he’s willing to stop and see almost everything.

 

Except for maybe strip clubs.  He wants to avoid those.

 

“Okay.”  He says quietly in reply.  “But only if we can drive and then sleep along Lake Erie tomorrow night before we head down.”  He wants to see as much as he can between here and St. Louis.

 

“Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is when time starts to jump. I’m not doing a day by day read out of their trip because that would turn boring as fuck really fast haha. If you’ve ever been on long car rides, you get it. So much time spent doing absolutely nothing.


	8. Do Pancakes Make Sounds?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 4
> 
> Evan is a goddamned comedian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> People are understanding that Evans run-on sentences are my way of showing him speed rambling, right? Basically, when you come across a really long run-on sentence with absolutely no punctuation, he's talking mile a minute. Sometimes I'll do dashes if it's really emphatic that he is running the entire thing together, but I have to have something between the words because otherwise I can't read it.

###  Connor

 

Lines are boring.  Even when a bizarre train thing that will take them vertical up to the top of the Archway awaits him at the end of said line, he would rather slash his wrists then stand another second being bored out of his skull.

 

“Connor, are you okay?”  Evan is quiet and he can barely make out the question through the humming of electronics and the murmurings of the people around them.

 

He nods and tries to give a reassuring answer.  “Fine.” He supposes he’s not truly bored. He has a line companion he doesn’t despise, so that’s a definite step up from any other time he has had to be still and surrounded by loud strangers.  “I get...fidgety in lines. And fidgety me can get kind of...destructive.”

 

Apparently he’s going for honesty today.  Awesome.

 

“Lines are horrible.”  Evan agrees lowly, and Connor huffs a laugh.  “I feel claustrophobic sometimes if it’s too busy.”

 

Connor glances around them and then back at Evan.  He’s ashy and trembling and pulling at the bottom hem of his shirt, and he hates that he hadn’t noticed it before.  “Shit. Fuck!” He mutters under his breath while tugging at his hair and scowling. “Do you want to leave? I forgot about your anxiety.  We can leave if it’s too much.” He’s not used to looking out for someone else, and the panic that he’s stressing someone out is unexpected.  Not unwelcome, mind, he likes that there is someone who is willing to be around him long enough for Connor to even form that attachment in the first place.

 

“We already  _ paid _ .”  Evan’s voice is still filled with nerves, but there’s a tinge of amusement in there as well now.  “And if...if my...If Doctor...arg!” He watches Evan slam his eyes shut and force out the first few words in a barely verbal staccato through a clenched jaw.  “If. my. therapist. were. here, he would tell me this is a good experience for me.” His tone tells Connor he vehemently disagrees with the sentiment and Connor just has to be ornery.

 

“He’s not here, but I am and I happen to agree with him.”  He agrees because he’s already seen that Evan can handle people, at least being around them, he just needs a chance to relax and familiarize himself with the situation.  He’s heard somewhere that the best way for socially anxious people to become less anxious was through exposure therapy. It had sounded cruel to Connor the first time he heard about it, but watching Evan over the last week has had him starting to question his initial reaction.

 

When Evan replies, at least it isn’t through a jaw held so tight Connor is certain teeth will shatter.  “Well, your opinion means more than Doctor Sherman’s, so thank you.”

 

Connor is floored.  And immediately distrustful of the other boy’s sincerity, but other than a narrowing of his eyes, he keeps his skepticism internal.  It’s a stupid gut reaction to distrust, but no one has ever given him a reason to before Evan, so of course he’s not going to believe it when Evan says shit like that.

 

Their trip to Barnes and Noble for the cookbooks had been an adventure in itself.  He had never known anyone who hadn’t been to a bookstore before, but apparently Evan hadn’t really been out in an actual store since middle school and that was when his mom was still dragging him along on her errands for things like groceries, not books.  That had stopped when he reached high school and her own schedule filled to the point of over scheduled. And he thought his parents acted as if he wasn’t around.

 

He’s not sure how he managed to keep Evan from a panic attack at the absolutely overwhelming-for-him experience, but they were able to get in and buy their cookbooks and leave in the span of a half an hour, so he had counted it as a win.  

 

“I guess forcing you into Barnes and Noble was good for you.”  He says smuggly. Evan most likely isn’t trying to make Connor feel like an idiot.  He’s pretty sure, anyway. 

 

Darting hazel eyes still when they meet his and Connor is amazed to see the panic drain a bit from the wide gaze.  Evan’s breathing slows as he tilts his head, obviously mulling over Connor’s words before a brilliant little half smile just barely moves one half of his mouth.  “You’re right!” Evan’s whisper is full of awe and Connor suddenly understands what Evan meant earlier by his opinion meaning more.

 

Having Evan concede to him tastes sweeter than any sugar, and not in a self-important smug way.  No, it feels right in the way that it brought something deep inside him back to life, something that had died when his father had yanked him out of therapy.

 

He feels listened to.

 

He feels like Evan actually, really, truly wants to be around him.  It helps that Evan is still here, even after three days on the road.  Evan has seen a bare fraction of the shitshow that is Connor Murphy, but if he keeps responding to the parts he sees the way he’s been, Connor’s going to be completely fucked emotionally when it comes to one Evan Hansen and it’s only been what, five days?  Six?

 

Yeah, he’s doomed.

 

The announcer over the loudspeaker startles them both and Evan releases a muffled shriek under his breath while Connor trips over his own feet in an effort to get away from the crackling speaker directly over their heads and lands hard on his ass.  He stares up at Evan who is staring down at him with an expression of a startled deer and he snorts at the mental analogy. 

 

Evan’s face twists and he looks surprised when a little giggle escapes.

 

Connor can’t help the deep bark of laughter that escapes at the little jump Evan makes at the tiny, involuntary sound and when Evan mock glares at him, his single laugh turns into uncontrollable giggles and he can’t stand through the quivering.  “I...I think we’re...I think we’re next!” Connor manages to gulp out and Evan bites both of his lips in an obvious effort to keep himself from laughing out loud.

 

“You might want to stand.”  Evan warns in the tone Connor is starting to realize Evan’s in-public voice.  It’s quiet and only really audible to someone who is straining to listen, though right now it’s tinged with the amusement he’s holding inside.  “I’m not sure they’ll let you roll across the floor onto the tram.”

 

Evan is a goddamned comedian.  The mental image just sets Connor off again as he pictures himself being rolled like a joint and shoved in through the doors.  “If they rolled me, would you smoke me?”

 

“I wouldn’t know how to begin.”  He grabs Evan’s extended hand and uses it to lever himself up off the floor.

 

“Guess I’ll have to teach you.”  Connor says before he remembers who exactly he is speaking to and fears Evan’s going to think he’s peer pressuring him into doing drugs which isn’t what Connor is doing at all and now Evan is...

 

“Maybe in Yellowstone.”  Evan’s voice breaks through his mental panic and he’s still staring at the other boy in amazement and disbelief as they’re ushered into their tiny, cramped car and being rushed up the one leg of the arch.  

 

###  Evan

 

“If I fell from the Arch, I would die instead of just break my arm.”

 

The boys are laying in the back of the jeep, parked on a rough plot of land in South Dakota amongst an old, crumbling building filled with dusty rocks and stones and religious text, pine trees, old cars and campers, and piles of mica sand.  They are laying on their cramped mattress they had bought at a thrift store (Evan tries not to think too hard about it) covered in a mound of blankets in the back of the jeep staring at the fairy lights and their reflections off the car glass.

 

The boys, while perusing the map for their way to Yellowstone, had realized that they would be passing close enough to Mount Rushmore and Evan hadn’t even needed to say a single word.  He simply pointed at the name on the map before Connor had sighed at him and given him that little odd half smile of his.

 

A brief mention to driving up to the Twin Cities and seeing the Mall of America had been passed around but quickly dismissed followed by a mention to at least visiting Worlds of Fun as they pass through Kansas City with the same dismissal.  Slightly lessened anxiety does not mean Evan wants to be in an area full of people all day long and after their day at Barnes and Noble and then the Arch, Evan is completely peopled out for the time being. He had thus far escaped a panic attack and he will like that streak to continue, thanks.  Thankfully, Connor hadn’t pressed nor seemed terribly disappointed. 

 

About five hours into the fifteen hour drive, and as they were pulling away from a remote gas station, Evan had insisted that when Connor reached his limit, they stop and camp because he wants them to be safe.  When Connor had easily agreed, Evan had pulled himself into the back and had curled up on the mattress and had promptly passed out.

 

When he had finally woken up, they were about five miles from a tiny town in South Dakota called Pringle and he had not believed Connor had allowed him sleep for so long and that he hadn’t bothered to stop to sleep himself for the entire fifteen hours.  

 

Connor had rolled his eyes and said that one, it had only been about 13 hours total so far, and two he  _ had  _ tried to wake Evan, but after being told to fuck off for the third time, he had decided to leave him to sleep.  Evan had protested, but Connor simply whipped out his phone and played back an audio as Evan flushed a brilliant red.  And as for his own lack of sleep, he had held up a can of Monster Energy and Evan had rolled his eyes in exasperation.

 

Their first stop in Pringle had been the gas station to fuel and replenish snacks, Connor hilariously purchasing Pringles.  Barely up the road, they noticed a weird sign along the highway for a place called The Kings Treasure House advertising books and rocks and antiques and they had stopped because Evan had always been very interested in such things and they were being impulsive.

 

However, the store had been locked and the property could have been assumed to be abandoned save for the light on in a window on the double wide trailer at the top of a shallow hill.  After waiting for around ten minutes for any sign of life, they had taken their leave and started to snoop around the falling apart wooden tables covered with dirty rocks. 

 

A little old lady with short curly grey hair had come running out of the rickety double wide and had called down to them shortly after.  After a short, very awkward conversation that neither could seem to free themselves from, the two suddenly had found themselves with a campsite that was free so long as they assisted with a few chores here and there.

 

It hadn’t taken long to find the perfectly shaded spot, both from sunlight and wind, and even less time to set up their camp.  Neither boy had a fully comfortable feeling about their place of rest and wanted as little as possible out in case they needed to make a hasty escape.  However, free is free and even Evan’s anxiety isn’t enough to prevent them from taking advantage of it.

 

The well on the property is near enough and there’s even a running bathroom in the tiny store that they are camped next to.  Neither had quite felt comfortable setting up the hammocks on someone’s private land and the choice to sleep in the jeep had somehow lead them to the current conversation. 

 

“What?”  Connor’s response is thready and high pitched and Evan laughs uncomfortably as he watches his friend sit straight up in the bed and stare at him with wide, unblinking eyes.  He can’t tell if Connor is horrified or amused or irritated or sad or anything. His expression is completely blank save for the wide eyes.

 

He hadn’t meant to say that out loud but he’s always has possessed a rather fatalistic sense of humor so maybe it’s better Connor is seeing this part of him now rather than later when they’re both too invested in their trip.  Better to give him time to run screaming away.

 

“I...I mean, it’s certainly taller than a 40 foot tree.”  He mutters and then shoots a brief smile in Connor’s direction before looking away again.

 

Connor now looks like he’s not sure if he wants to laugh or cry which is better than no clue at all and Evan has a habit of talking when silence is probably better. 

 

“The landing...I would have landed...no, I was right the first time.” He mutters a little and forces himself to return back to the conversation instead of focusing on his verbal mistakes.  He has time for that later when Connor is asleep and Evan can’t. “The landing would have been harder. I would have made a bigger mess.” 

 

Connor curls into a ball, covering his hands with his face as he shakes with suppressed giggles.

 

Something in Evan feels twisty and warm and he’s not sure why.  “Clean up would have needed a spatula instead of a small cast.”

 

That sets off Connor into peels of giggles and Evan jumps as if jolted with static before finding himself joining in.  He’s not so much suicidal as he is an opportunist, but being able to share the dark humor in his mind helps ease the pain of being him.  

 

When Connor can breath again, he speaks up, moisture still in his eyes and dampening his cheeks.  “Oh god, is it gross that now I want pancakes for dinner?”

 

“Ha!”  Evan doesn’t think so, and tells Connor so.  “Except that I have no idea how to make pancakes so I guess it will be...” A cookbook is thrown at his head and he barely ducks it. “Isn’t that supposed to be in the box with the kitchen stuff?”  He asks with narrowed eyes.

 

Connor shrugs as if saying  _ who the fuck knows _ , still wiping the last of the tears from the corners of his eyes.  “There’s a recipe in there. Let’s have breakfast for dinner, Treecake.”

 

“Treecake?”

 

“Treecake.  You know, like a pancake only you’re Tree Boy Hansen so...treecake.”

 

He’s never met another person who delights in giving nicknames the way Connor Murphy does.  “Oh my god, Connor! You aren’t a scary edgelord, you’re a giant  _ dork _ .”

 

“And for that, you can make dinner by yourself.”

 

“No, wait I’m sorry!”

 

“Too late!”

 

“Connor!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Go dark humor, am I right?
> 
> This marks the last of the prewritten chapters! Nearly done with chapter 9 and it should be up by the weekend.


	9. It Isn’t You, It’s Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 8
> 
> They’re gone just barely a week when he has his first episode he can’t avoid.

### Connor

 

His current bad mood isn’t Evan’s fault.  He wishes he could tell the other boy this, to ease his worry, but he knows that any words he tries to say will turn into hurtful, hateful, cruel things he’ll never be able to take back and he’s trying to contain himself for once.  He hates how Evan has been twisting at his fingers now for an hour straight through the pounding runs of System of a Down in silence and Connor hates that he can’t pull himself out of his mind enough to assure his friend that he’s not mad.

 

Well, he is angry, just not at Evan.

 

Their hosts had been normal at first, an older woman named Evelyn and her husband Doug lived there.  She ran a small rock shop off of their property and he took to selling parts from the cars littering their property and selling the sand piles off one pound at a time when he wasn’t out combing the Black Hills for gems and pretty rocks to sell in the shop.  He was never seen without a cowboy hat of some kind, and their time not spent working was spent listening to stories from his past.

 

They spent the first three days digging a giant trench in the middle of the driveway with the large backhoe Doug owned so that their water pipes could be dropped to not freeze in the coming winter.  Every time one of them would ask about some nearby site to see, they would be subtly dismissed with a ‘we’ll explore once the pipes are done.’

 

By the fourth day Connor had reached the end of his patience.  As they were filling the holes with the lowered pipes, the septic system in the doublewide catastrophically failed and before they could be asked to help fix that, Connor had dragged Evan to the jeep and within five minutes, they were speeding their way down the small highway, Connor snapping about being taken advantage of while Evan sat shaking next to him.

 

Even stopping at Mount Rushmore with its snow dusted sculptures carved into the cliff face hadn’t calmed his bad mood and as they were on the winding roads out of the black hills towards Wyoming and Yellowstone he had fallen into a melancholic silence.

 

Evan had stopped trying to pull him into a conversation once Connor shot him a look he had hoped the other boy had interpreted as a please be quiet, but now that Evan’s been silent for two hours staring out the side window, he realizes that maybe Evan took him a bit more seriously than he had wanted.  

 

Oh god, what if his look told Evan to fuck off?  He then told his best friend, the only good thing in his life, that he isn’t wanted around and that means Connor really is the human equivalent to a dumpster fire.  The last thing he wants to do is drive the one person who seems to want to be around him away but nothing he tries enables him to be verbal again, so he sits silently listening to the screaming over the speakers.

 

They make it to Buffalo, Wyoming before Connor is finally able to break his silence after pulling into the parking lot of a Super 8.

 

“Sorry.”  His voice hoarse from lack of use and the overwhelming emotion coursing through him now and since they left the old couple’s property.  He doesn’t want to have this conversation here in the car, it’s why he’s brought them to a hotel, but he also doesn’t know how to verbalize anything other than the one word he finally managed to say.

 

But Evan, oh, Connor doesn’t deserve such a selfless friend.

 

“Are you okay to get us the room?”  Evan’s voice should be shaking, and maybe it is a little bit or a lot, but Connor just shakes his head.  He still can’t verbalize any words, and he hates that they’re stuck here until he can get his shit together.  He just wants a shower and a bed and to sleep for ten years until he’s no longer the piece of shit mess he is right now.

 

And then…

 

He’s amazed at the steely look that comes into those hazel eyes and Evan takes three metered breaths before taking his wallet from the center console and fidgeting with it for a moment.  Then, as if he’s arguing with himself and just won, he nods decisively and shoots Connor a nervous little smile before sliding out of the jeep and walking briskly through the doors of the building labeled as the main office, leaving Connor sitting there trying to process exactly what has just happened.

 

### Evan

_Oh, fucking hell what is he doing?_

 

He’s an idiot.  What is he thinking, ordering a room for the two of them?  He can’t even pay the pizza man without panicking and leaving a ridiculous tip and that’s only if he even manages to order the food to begin with.  It’s only 2 in the afternoon and no one is milling about waiting for a room. The concierge looks bored out of her mind and Evan steels himself to talk to a complete stranger.

 

He feels like he’s going to vomit.

 

Oh god.  What if he goes to ask for two beds and he says only one?  Do hotels even have rooms with two beds? He knows he looks young.  What if they assume he’s asking for a secret rendezvous with his boyfriend or girlfriend?  What if they think Connor _is_ his boyfriend?  He and Connor are barely friends and asking him to pose as a boyfriend because he can’t keep his mouth shut seems a bit much.

 

He huffs at himself.  Overthinking again. It shouldn’t be this difficult to walk up to a person and ask for a room, especially considering this person works for the hotel he wants the room in.

 

Maybe they can just sleep in the car again.  Except he desperately wants a real shower, and a real bed, and a free continental breakfast that may be full of shitty, frozen or prepackaged food, but it won’t be food they have to attempt to cook themselves so maybe he can do this.

 

He can’t even take a step to the counter.  

 

He must look like an absolute idiot.

 

“Chillax, dude.”

 

He jumps when Connor’s hoarse voice comes from behind him.  He turns and sees his bone weary, scraggly friend holding a duffel bag in one hand and the car keys in the other.  Evan opens his mouth to explain but only air escapes and he flushes at the sound, or lack thereof.

 

Connor gives a half hearted chuckle that doesn’t clear the blankness from his eyes and jiggles the Jeep keys in his direction.  “I got this. Go get your bag.”

 

He takes the keys, nods his agreement, and only watches Connor long enough to see him approach the counter and lean on it casually.  He leaves the room feeling woefully inadequate and pathetic as he hears Connor ask for a room for him and his friend as they make their way to Yellowstone.

 

He finds the car parked near a side door and unlocks it using the key fob.  He follows Connor’s lead and brings in the entire duffel that contains his clothing rather than digging through for one change of clothes.

 

He feels a bit jealous at Connor’s ability to just bounce back from an episode like nothing had happened, at least enough to function like a real human being once in awhile, and has to force himself to not snap at Connor when the other boy hands him their door card as soon as he steps back through the glass door.  Instead, he follows Connor down the hall and through the door into their room and his eyes zero in on the bathroom at the same time as Connor’s does.

 

“I call shower.”  They shout in unison before growling at each other as they face the other down.  Evan nearly steps back at Connor’s spectacular death glare, but manages to hold his own because _he desperately needs that shower right now before he dies_.

 

“I drove the entire way, I get the shower first.”  Connor snaps and tosses his bag onto the closest bed and starts to rummage around.  Evan takes the chance when his back is turned just for a moment to dart into the bathroom and he locks the door behind him.  A single fist pounds on the door and Evan jumps about a foot off the ground. “Goddammit, Evan.”

 

The frustration in his voice is very obviously covering real anger and Evan suddenly feels a stab of guilt.  Of course Connor wouldn’t bounce back to normal instantly, it’s stupid to think that. Yes, he feels gross and disgusting and horrible, but Connor probably feels worse, especially after today.  “Sorry.” He whispers through a tight throat. “I’m just...I’ll be right out. I just need to pee.”

 

There’s a long pause where Evan can hear Connor breathing rhythmically as if trying to keep himself from breaking the door down or screaming or otherwise losing it in some other fashion.  “Okay.” He whispers back, voice full of gravel and distrust, and Evan smiles sadly before finishing his business and washing his hands.

 

When he opens the door, Connor is leaning against the wall opposite with his arms crossed and fingers pulling at his sweatshirt sleeves.  His head jerks up when the door opens and Evan’s heart breaks a little more when he sees the genuine amazement that floods the blue eyes “I’m sorry.”  Evan says again, this time so he can see if Connor believes him. “I dismissed you, and that was unbelievably rude of me. I’ll see if I can’t find a couple of campsites for tomorrow when we get to Yellowstone.”

 

Connor’s mouth is still down turned, but his eyes crinkle a little when he looks at Evan.  “Sure thing. You find the places, and I’ll make some calls while you’re in the shower.”

 

Evan doesn’t hold back his grin because he’s just so goddamned relieved that apparently he hasn’t ruined his friendship due to his selfishness, that he hasn’t made Connor think he’s just like his family, because he never wants that.  Connor is his best friend and best friend’s don’t do that to each other.

 

He can’t believe that in such a short time frame this other boy has become the one person Evan can’t see himself living without.

 

He pulls his laptop out and sits cross legged on the bed as he hears the shower turn on and he settles down to do some research to the sound of Connor’s muffled humming.  It doesn't take him long to find the campground for them. It might be the most remote location in Yellowstone, and it might have absolutely no amenities save for pit toilets and fire pits, but it’s the cheapest, the fewest spots available, and most importantly, not open year round which means there won’t be children there, yet will be open until the middle of October, which is longer than the other seasonal sites.

 

He hopes.  Also, Connor _did_ basically buyout REI.  It would be shame to not use everything he had purchased.

 

Done with his campsite research, he moves to exploring the pages of the various National Parks and Monuments.  The list of places he wants to visit is growing exponentially so he also saves information about the US Park Pass.  For only 80 bucks, they can have access to most of the national parks, forests, and other federal recreation sites that have fees and seeing as how Evan wants to see as many National Parks as possible, the pass seems to be a very frugal purchase to make, especially as park fees tend to range from the lowest at 7 for a single person on foot up to 35 for a car and nearly every price in between and if they plan on visiting more than four parks, forests, or monuments from the approved list, then it’s most definitely worth buying.

 

“Your turn.”  Connor’s wrapped his head in a towel and has a pair of low hanging sweatpants on and left the shirt off for the moment.  “I’ll finish researching, if you want.”

 

Evan wordlessly places the laptop on the desk for Connor to use and pulls out his sweats and a tee shirt from his bag, opting to commando it tonight.  “I’ve left them all up, the pages about the campsites, but I think we should camp at Slough Creek in the northern part of the park. I also want to buy the annual national park pass.”  He doesn’t really wait for Connor to respond, he just leaves the other boy to read the web pages so he can enjoy his first hot shower in a week. And maybe find out if the hotel has a pool. 

 

### Connor

 

“I got us a deal with the campground manager for Slough Creek.  I told him we weren't sure how long we would stay, but it could be until the campground closed on October 15 and he said normally they don’t do reservations or anything, but if we were staying for a month, he said we could pay 10 a night instead of 15 and that there were currently half of the sites open.  Tomorrow is the 16th, so we’ll pay about 300 for the month instead of 450. He probably wasn’t supposed to do that, but he seemed pretty happy someone was planning on staying until the bitter end so whatever. We got it for a lot cheaper and that’s all that matters.” Connor doesn’t look up right away when he hears the bathroom door open, just holds out a Styrofoam food box.  “I also had delivered a couple of burgers and order of fries to share from the steakhouse across the way. I put half in your box.”

 

Evan stares at Connor blearily, water still dripping into his eyes from the hair plastered to his forehead.  “The campground...okay. That’s cool. Um.” He rubs at his forehead with a frown furrowing between his eyes.  “Give me a second. That was...erm. A lot. At once. A lot of information. Um, to process.”

 

Connor huffs a little laugh and digs into his french fries as soon as Evan takes the offered box and sits at the desk.  He’s a little high right now, having lit up while on the phone during Evan’s shower, and the edge is slowly being removed from his temper as the weight of the couple of hits comes over him.  He just hopes he can get through the coming conversation without a breakdown or a meltdown.

 

“It kind of creeps up on me.  I don’t really recognize it’s coming until it’s right there upon me, you know?”  He says after he’s eaten half the fries and two bites of the burger. It’s cold already, but he doesn’t give a flying fuck.  It’s delicious.

 

Evan nods and nibbles on a long fry.  He doesn’t interrupt, he doesn’t interject, and he doesn’t offer advice.  At least, he isn't yet. That could always change. Regardless, he continues.  “And then I find myself in a really weird headspace and even in there I don’t know where I’m going to end up.”  He rips a bite out of the burger and chews it almost violently.

 

“I think I’ve either self harmed or attempted in almost all of my worst headspace moments.”  Evan whispers and Connor slowly turns his head to stare at him in disbelief. His return smile is sad and it breaks Connor’s heart that Evan has done what Connor has, that Evan feels exactly the way Connor does, it just all manifests so vastly different it’s mind boggling.  “The tree was just the latest.  Most of the time it's me scratching myself without realizing it or hitting my head on something.”  He grimaces and Connor feels a stab of sympathy.  "It's been awhile for that one, thankfully.  I was getting migraines all the time."

 

“I would say me too, but…”  he looks at his hoodie covered arms and grimaces.  “I mean, I haven’t done anything this time.” He glances up at Evan just briefly to see the look of compassion he can’t possibly call anything else and he flushes.  “And I won’t, either.”

 

“Okay.”  Evan nods again and finally moves on to his now very cold burger.  “I won’t, either, either.” His face twists in clear annoyance at Connor’s muffled snort of amusement.  “You know what I mean!” He hisses and Connor stuffs the last bite of his burger in his mouth instead of responding.

 

He finds himself relaxing more around the other boy as their evening continues.  He’s starting to form a mantra that encompasses the idea that there isn’t a malicious bone in Evan Hansen’s body.  Deceptive to protect himself, sure, but not malicious.

 

And for some godforsaken reason, he seems to actually like being around him.  He’s really not used to that.

 

He wonders just how long it will take for him to be used to it.  He'd like it happen sooner rather than later, if the Universe would be so kind.  He actually likes Evan Hansen and wants him to stay around for forever, thanks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The events surrounding the weird couple from South Dakota stories are based on real life events I had to live through because they are my grandparents. 
> 
> Next chapter has a weed smoking scene. Well, more they smoke while they discuss the library letter in more detail. I'll try and remember to put a TL:DR sort of thing in the end notes if you don't want to read drugs. See you next time!


	10. “Little Talks”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 12
> 
> The conversation between the boys becomes a bit heavy.

Evan

If the rest of the campsites they live at are as beautiful as the one they have at Slough Creek, Evan will be very content with life.  Well, at least more content than he normally tends to be. The entirety campground is mostly an open field with a smattering of trees scattered through the sites as well as surrounded them as decently populated forest.  

 

When the two boys had first arrived, Connor had been all set to pitch a tent at the first available site they came across.  While it had a few trees, it was so close to the campground entrance and other people and that would not do.

 

Evan had had other plans.

 

He begged Connor to just drive around the loop, just in case they found an even better site that was more secluded and Connor had reluctantly complied.  A few sites in, they found a small trio comprised of three young adults packing up a campsite near the creek. A particularly well built man with dark mocha skin and long dreadlocks had caught sight of them and waved them over.   Connor had slipped out of the car and Evan had hesitatingly followed him over to the group where they had all stopped by now and were watching the two approach with interest.

 

In the end, the three young adults had left the two 18 year olds with an enormous amount of firewood, three extra tarps, an entire package of toilet paper AND paper towels, and the extra food they hadn’t eaten which the two boys had protested at first because there was just _so much there_.  The young adult’s insistence that they keep the cooler of food had Evan in tears because there was cake in the cooler along with hot dogs and marshmallows and he can’t believe they are going to be able to have a proper cookout one night.

 

That had been three days ago.

 

The first day in the park had been technically the day they arrived, and instead of branching out at all they stayed right in the camp to set it all up.  Evan was determined to made the little site their home for the time they stayed, and that included setting up the hammocks near the creek and the tarps over their little kitchen and sitting area and set up just so to provide some extra wind coverage for the tent.  The second day had been spent at one of the little towns that contained a laundry machine and while their clothing was washing and drying, they had sussed out just how they would need to budget the rest of their funds. So far, they were set to be okay for at least six months if they are able to keep their costs at what they were averaging already.

 

Today had been spent exploring what they could by foot nearby with Evan taking photos of interesting trees and plants and Connor trying to photobomb the pictures. After dinner, as they’re washing the few dishes from roasting hotdogs over a fire, Evan brings up the topic from the Arch again.  “I want to smoke with you tonight.” He knows Connor smokes when they stop for the night, even if he’s been trying to hide it, and he wants the hiding and secrecy around it to stop.

 

Connor looks taken aback, surprised, and Evan’s not sure why.  He already told Connor that he would smoke in Yellowstone with him.  “Alright.” Connor replies finally and dives into the jeep to find his metal ammo box that houses his weed and glass.  When he emerges, Evan follows him to his favorite spot in their camp.

 

They sit on the log that stretches over the river, jetting from their campsite.  The night is clear, the stars are bright, and wolves howl in the distance. He watches as Connor unwraps the bong, fills it with one of their water bottles, and takes his container of his ground leaf and packs the glass bowl carefully with a soft smile lifting the corners of his mouth.  

 

It’s when Connor holds out the bong that Evan just smirks, takes it and the lighter from him, and expertly draws a hit.  He coughs harshly, but is still grinning when he returns it. Connor gapes at him, accepting the offered glass piece silently, slowly.

 

Evan draws a couple of cold breaths in in an effort to cool the aching burn that always lingers after smoking and explains so the bewildered look on Connor’s face will vanish.  “I have my prescribed medication for attacks. But for every day, I usually either use a pen and cartridge as edibles aren’t consistent or instant enough for my anxiety attacks and I had an attack in the office when my doctor suggested just smoking joints or a pipe, but I do have a bong at home.  A very small one, and I rarely use it, but I have before. Also, I don’t typically consume THC, just CBD because I’ve heard that THC can heighten anxiety and lets be real, I don’t need more anxiety.”

 

Connor blinks at him.  “So...you decided to smoke now anyway?”

 

Evan shrugs.  He’s fairly certain more anxiety in his system would only kill him but he doesn’t feel like it’s a rational fear any more.  “I haven’t had as much issue with my anxiety around you. I wanted to try, you wanted to share.”

 

“I just...I don’t get it.  You smoke weed, but you don’t smoke weed.”  Connor asks slowly, as if he’s trying to figure out a puzzle, and Evan supposes he is.  Evan doesn’t appear to be a stoner, and he isn’t, and he doesn’t look like someone who even knows what weed is let alone consume on occasion.

 

Evan nods before his eyes widen in alarm as he feels a feeling akin to a blanket being drawn over his brain and he can feel every muscle in his body start to melt into the log.  “Oh this is very different.” CBD relaxes him, but not to this level of swoopy heaviness. It isn’t an altogether unpleasant sensation.

 

Connor beams at him and his heart stutters at the sight.  “Awesome, now I can ask the hard questions.” The smile fades down to a thin straight line and Evan groans.

 

Oh, good.

 

“Why’d you write that letter about my sister?”

 

Evan nearly has a heart attack at the question.  He hasn’t thought about his therapy letters since they left and that fateful letter is included in that.  Why is Connor bringing it up now?

 

He wonders what he should tell Connor.  Part of him tells him he needs to lie, to make himself appear less pathetic.  But then he remembers that Connor already knows about the tree, about the fall that failed, even without them really talking about it and he figures Connor can’t think _less_ of him.  Plus, he doesn’t want to lie to Connor.  Even if it’s hard, he finds that he actually wants to tell Connor the truth.

 

“She was nice to me last year after the jazz concert, so I suppose...”  He sighs and watches smoke dissipate from Connor’s exhale and holds his hand out for the bong.  His second drag is less awkward than the first and he coughs, as he knows he will, but the pain is a little less.  At least the fuzz in his brain is distracting him enough from the burn in his throat that he can pretend he’s coughing less.

 

The bong is passed back to the other boy and he watches the leaf burn red as Connor slowly sucks in, the water inside the main chamber swirling in a delicate dance before the bowl is removed and the smoke sweeps up the smoke chamber and vanishes into Connor’s mouth for a long held breath.  Smoke is pretty, Evan thinks. So long as it isn’t indicative of a forest on fire.

 

He finds it odd that weed enables his thoughts to process at a slow steady pace rather than a blurred mess and figures it must be too difficult for his anxiety to push as fast as it normally does through the haze of weed.  Then he realizes he’s been sitting silently too long and tries to remember the question so he could finish. “I guess I thought out of everyone at school, Zoe would be the one who would be the likeliest to pity me enough to at least pretend we were friends.”

 

“So all that bullshit about her being your, what, only hope was…?”

 

“I could have written ‘making a friend’ instead of her name, you know ‘all my hope is pinned on making just one friend’ but I wasn’t exactly in a very good state of mind and I tend to fixate.  Plus, no one other than Dr. Sherman and my mom were supposed to even know about my letters, and no one is supposed to read them.” The rest of the letter comes to mind and when Connor winces, he knows the other boy remembers, too.  “I think…” He allows his voice to trail off and accepts the lighter from Connor and then the glassware again.

 

The latest inhale is his smoothest yet and he feels a bit of pride that he barely coughs this time, wisps of smoke swirling around them as he exhales.  He thinks he likes being high.

 

“You think?”  Connor beckons for the bong and Evan obligingly passes it and the lighter over.

 

“I think I chose Zoe’s name specifically because of that one interaction at that concert Junior year.”  His words are slow, both from the effects of the THC and from thinking through what he’s trying to say because he doesn’t want to offend Connor, never that.  “I couldn’t fathom that anyone could be friendly to me and she was and that became a sort of obsessive fixation...but not...I don’t mean it in…I’m not trying to be _creepy_ about it, but...”

 

His stammer is back and he hates it.  He hates that his high is feeling _off_ now because his heightened anxiety is fighting against the calming effects of weed.  

 

“Evan.”

 

He looks at Connor, chest still heaving and mind still battling between calmness and panic.  “I’m not a creep.” He emphasizes weakly.

 

Connor laughs and he feels an odd sense of relief at the soft sound.  “No, you’re not. Awkward as hell maybe, but not a creep.”

 

Apparently being high makes Evan sentimental as fuck because he grins and says with nary a stutter or a blush in sight, “and I _have_ a friend now.  I don’t need Zoe, or rather the idea of her.  I have _you_.”

 

Apparently, High Connor is full of soft smiles and playful giggles and Evan thinks he’s floating away for a moment when he’s hit with a full blast of Connor glee.

 

“Hell yeah you have me.”  Connor replies after he’s done with his giggle fit.  “And we’re going to take over the world, Evan. You and I.  World taker overers.”

 

Evan snorts and allows his head to loll around his shoulders, drawing a deep breath through his nostrils and closing his eyes at the heady mixture of weed and smoke and dirt and sweat.  “That isn’t a thing, Connor.” He says as he drops his head back slowly to stare up at the night sky. It’s a clear night and the stars seem extra sparkly.

 

“Then we’ll make it one.”

 

“Okay, Connor.”  The bong is set on the dirt and the two boys fall silent as they sit there.

 

It’s when he’s staring at the stars that he gains the courage to ask Connor why he’s so protective over Zoe  when he’s made it clear they hate each other. “I don’t want to offend you, or make you think you shouldn’t be protective because I don’t!  I just want to know...why?”

 

Connor sits on the log in silence, one leg propped up to help keep his balance while the other swings below him, nearly touching the water with his boot.  Evan is content to wait for him. He asked, as Connor has informed him he is allowed to do whenever he wishes so long as Connor can choose if he gives a response to it or not.  And while he hopes Connor will answer, the longer they sit there, the more it seems that Connor will not answer his question.

 

And sure, he won’t lie and say he isn’t a little disappointed.  But he can’t expect Connor to open up and spill everything in his life to him, even if he can’t bear the thought of Connor having to bear the hurt on his own.  Especially when Evan is right there to help him through it.

 

Then, in low tones that wash over Evan like a comforting hug, Connor starts to speak.

 

### Connor

 

It starts when he is in second grade and Zoe in first.

 

It starts with a temper tantrum over being the line leader and a rapidly spreading rumor involving him, their teacher, and the computer table.

 

It is the beginning of the end of their closeness as they both start to believe the rumors about him.

 

Where they once spent their every waking moment whispering and inventing and playing together, Connor finds himself withdrawing more and more from her games, first just in how he interacted and eventually in flat out refusal to play.

 

Her habit of hiding in random places and jumping out to scare him nearly gets her head slammed into a wall when she startles him to the point of lashing out.  Offers to play start to be met with thrown objects like candles and hammers while screaming incoherently at her.

 

He’s 13 when he’s screaming at their grandparents who are watching them for the week while their parents are on their second honeymoon.  He pulls out the butchers knife from the knife block when Zoe gently steps in and tries to cajole him into coming upstairs with her. He throws the knife into the sink at her horrified shriek but the damage is already done.

 

The moments where they would explore the creek that ran along the bike path near their house disappear as she learns to avoid him and he chooses to spend his time sequestered in his room with his screaming music.

 

The times they spent in worlds they would create on their own faded to nothing as she does everything she can to make sure he knows how much she hates him and he disappears to withdraw himself in the innumerable worlds contained in all his books, to try and find someone who could care about the monsters inside his head that just take over.

 

He can’t find the words to explain to either his parents nor his sister just how horrible it feels to feel like a stranger in ones body as it is doing and saying horrible things to the people he cares about.  He doesn’t know how to describe what it’s like to feel like everyone and everything is against you, that the entire world is staring at you just waiting for you to fail, and that you have nothing else to do but listen to their expectations and do exactly that.

 

He doesn’t hate Zoe.

 

He never has.

 

He’s her big brother, the one who is supposed to protect her, the one who is supposed to keep away the monsters.

 

Instead, he became her monster.

 

He doesn’t want to scare her the way that he does.  He absolutely despises that she fears him, that she hates him, that she is most likely at home celebrating because the freak, the psychopath, the _monster_ isn’t around any longer to terrify her.

 

He loves his sister.  He’s loved her since he first laid eyes on her just a month after his second birthday.  He doesn’t have any other memories from before he was around four or five save the first time his baby sister looked at him and smiled just for him and he fell in love with her.

 

He doesn’t realize he’s crying at until Evan’s arms are wrapped around his waist, head tucked into the space between his shoulder, chin, and chest.  Evan is a silent rock, offering his comfort and Connor greedily saps it up as his own arms come up and clutch at Evan like a lifeline, like he’s the only thing keeping him grounded at the moment.

 

And perhaps it’s true.  He’s finding his tears are drying and soon he’s able to lift his head enough to wipe at his nose with a tissue in his coat pocket.

 

No words are exchanged, even now, and Connor doesn’t feel like any are necessary.  Evan’s actions are telling Connor everything that he needs to know to keep his paranoia at bay.  Evan is here. Evan is staying.

 

Evan fucking hugged him while he was crying without saying a single thing about it.  He contemplates grabbing the bong again and passing around one last bowl before bed. He nudges the other boy and motions over to the glassware and Evan nods with a tired, loopy sort of smile that he can’t help answering with a flicker of his own mouth as he gathers up the equipment for one more smoke.

  
It feels good to have gotten all that off his chest.   _Thank fuck for Evan Hansen_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TL:DR - They talk about the library letter and a bit about his relationship with Zoe. I can’t summarize it without writing huge paragraphs, so either read it or don’t. Sorry. I genuinely tried but couldn't summarize it in a way that told what it should in a succinct enough manner. I really struggle with that.


	11. Dynamics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 19
> 
> I got nothing today. The boys get closer?
> 
>  
> 
> Its near the end of September now for our duo.

###  Evan

 

They’re on their way out of the Old Faithful viewing area after seeing what rangers were saying was the largest blow of the season when Evan is nearly bowled over by a woman carrying an oversized bag.  If it hadn’t been for Connor’s quick reflexes, Evan would have fallen flat on his ass. As it were, he was going to have an impressive shiner later and he knows without touching that it’s going to be tender.

 

Automatically, he starts to stammer out an apology for being in her way, for taking up space, for simply  _ existing _ when a throat clears.  He looks at Connor who’s frowning at him and shaking his head and Evan stands up straight at the steely look.  

 

Connor’s look tells Evan that she is in the wrong here, not Evan, that he doesn’t need to apologize, she does.

 

He’s never not apologized for something like this before.  He’s always treated someone running into him as him being in the way.  He’s never looked at it like they should be watching so they don’t run into others.

 

But Connor has told him how he doesn’t like how Evan’s instinct is to apologize for everything, that the way he apologizes for every single imagined infraction diminishes the weight of a real apology.  He thinks Evan needs to be more assertive, to stand up for himself, but he’s never been good at that. It’s always been what Evan is the worst at, if he’s honest with himself. Which, fine so maybe he’s not always honest, he knows this, but right now he is being honest so that is what matters, right?

 

The way Connor looks at him with unwavering silent encouragement is enough to bolster his confidence and he finds the words leaving him before he registers he’s thought them.  “Excuse me!” He says much louder than he expected to and flinches back when the woman whirls around and nearly whacks him again. 

 

Her hands fly up to her mouth and she takes a couple of steps away from the pair.  “Oh, I’m so sorry! I had no idea someone was behind me!” Evan flicks his gaze to Connor for just a moment and nearly sighs at the glower fixated on the other boy’s face.  Maybe they need to find a middle ground between pure intimidation and total doormat for both of them.

 

Evan just nods at her, unable to voice another word.  She darts off and he breathes a sigh of relief and Connor beams at him proudly.  “Ha! You did it, Evan!” He whispers as he guides Evan with a hand on his lower back away from the bustling crowd of people.

 

Evan’s return smile is shaky, hesitant, because he’s still uncertain he did the correct thing in drawing the woman’s attention to him.  But his head still hurts from where the lady’s bag hit him and he really hadn’t been doing anything wrong, or anything at all really, except for walking.  

 

“I...I did it.  I stood up for myself.”  He knows he sounds dazed but Connor doesn’t seem to notice as he tugs Evan towards the trailhead, pride oozing in his muttered words that Evan can’t really make out.

 

It’s almost as if Connor is simply mumbling nonsense except that he can make out phrases like ‘it’s about fucking time’ and ‘always knew you had a backbone, Evan’ and he can barely keep himself together at the very notion he spoke up for himself and Connor’s pride-filled swears and curses mean far more to him than his mom’s weak, half-hearted attempts at praise.

 

“C’mon, Bark Boy.  Let’s get on that trail and see some trees.”

 

“And maybe a moose!”

 

“Or a grizzly bear.”

 

Evan can feel the blood drain from his cheeks and Connor rolls his eyes before nudging him with an elbow.  “We aren’t going to see a bear.” Somehow, Evan isn’t reassured.

 

However, they didn’t see either animal on their walk.

 

“Evan?”

 

He turns at Connor’s perplexed voice and looks up, following his arm and finger to what lay on the other end.  High up in a pine tree was a giant porcupine. He glances back over at Connor whose face is adorably screwed up in confusion and then tries not to panic over thinking his friend is adorable.

 

Because he is adorable.  Extremely adorable. Handsome, even.

 

The quickening of his heart frightens him.  He hasn’t felt his heart race like this since...well, since the arch in St. Louis with the crowds and the height and the thoughts.  And even then he hadn’t taken…

 

“Connor?”

 

“Hmm?”  He doesn’t look away from where he’s squinting at the animal in the tree.

 

“I haven’t taken my anxiety medication since the last day we were at school.”  Evan can’t keep the surprise and fear out of his voice. He’s never gone this long without taking one of his pills, he’s not sure he’s gone a single day let along nearly 20 days. 

 

Connor’s eyes brows fly up and his eyes widen just a hair before he just starts giggling. He almost sounds deranged but he's too amused for that description.  “Evan, you idiot. Why the fuck are you stressing out about  _ not stressing out _ ?  You haven’t really needed it?  Great! Awesome! I mean, don’t toss it.  But you don’t need it right now, right?” 

 

Connor’s excitement is contagious and Evan can feel a wide, uncontrollable grin cross his face.  “Right.” 

 

“So, don’t even start worrying about it.”

 

And then Connor does something Evan is certainly not expecting, something he has sort of been wishing for, but also sort of hoping would never happen because _ Why would Connor even want to? _

 

Seeing bison shuffle along the prairie for the first time is pretty amazing.  Seeing geysers erupt and smelling the sulfur bubble is all well and good. But nothing,  _ absolutely nothing _ , can compare to how it feels when Connor Murphy laces their fingers together for the first time and smiles shyly at him, hair illuminated by the sun refracting through the trees and the sight of him takes Evan's breath away.

 

And the hand holding is on purpose and Evan can’t quite understand what this means because how can someone with as large a presence as Connor ever want to be with someone as small as Evan but there are fingers laced with his and he’s staring at them as if willing them not to disappear and the world is sort of turning a little bit black maybe and he’s not sure what to do right now because he’s hearing his name but he also wants to keep the image of Connor holding his hand a reality and then he  _ gasps _ and when his lungs burn he wonders if he had actually stopped breathing for a minute there.

 

And Connor’s worried face swims into view and Evan realizes with flushing cheeks that he is having a minor panic attack over someone he likes holding his hand.  

 

And just when he was saying he didn’t need his medication, too.

 

He flings his hands up to his face to wipe at the sudden influx of tears but the left one refuses to budge and he stares down at it again.  The image that had triggered the panic attack is still present. 

 

Connor is still holding his hand.  

 

He looks over at his casted palm with fingers splayed out in the air and then back over to the one white knuckled in Connor’s and lets out a little gasp of a breath, trying to remind himself to keep breathing.  He feels a squeeze on his hand and he gasps again.

 

Connor is still holding his hand.

 

His casted hand moves almost without his permission until he’s brushing at Connor’s shoulder with his fingertips and then...

 

And then.

 

Connor’s hug is like coming home and he feels the last of his panic flee in a last rush, leaving him suddenly exhausted and weary.  He feels more than hears the other boy’s chuckle and he shifts with the intent of moving back, but Connor won’t move his arm to allow him to move away yet.  It’s the most awkward hug he’s ever experienced as his hand is sweaty and clammy and still occupied by Connor’s and is pinned awkwardly between them but he’s not about to let go or to be the first to shift around.

 

Connor finally pulls back and grins crookedly over at him.  “Just relax with me, Ev. It’s a nice day with the perfect clouds for sky watching.  C’mon. We just need to find the perfect spot.” 

 

Still not relinquishing his hold on Evan’s hand, Connor finally moves from where the porcupine is perched in the tree and the two boys resume their meander through the aspen forest path until they find a wide clearing with a brilliant view of the sky.  The entire walk feels like a floating dream. He can’t tear his eyes away from their joined hands and the sight still makes him want to cry only this time not from his anxiety but just the fact that someone wants to hold his hand and to touch him and..

 

He inhales sharply when Connor drops to the grass and gives the hand he’s still holding a little pull, encouraging Evan to follow.  It’s successful in ripping him from his spiraling thoughts and he allows himself to be tugged down into the soft grass and finds himself pressed side to side with Connor, the black sweater silky smooth against his arm and strip of skin between his shirt and belt soft and warm.  The fabric was woven from an extremely soft yarn and he has to resist the urge to turn his face and nuzzle Connor’s shoulder like a cat. He idly wonders if Connor would notice if he stole the sweater and wore it himself.

 

Probably.  The other was oddly possessive of his clothing.

 

Clouds float lazily by.  Trees rustle like they’re gently applauding the young runaways who are finding themselves and each other.  Connor’s breath is steady next to him and he marvels at how  _ calm _ he feels despite the swirling feeling of something deep in his gut.  Something he really liked to experience and had never quite connected with an actual person before now.

 

He really likes Connor.

 

“I want to go to Alaska.”  Evan says quietly, barely breaking the stillness of the air with his soft voice. 

 

His companion is silent save for the electric clicks of the tapping on their SIM carded smartphone, Evan’s arm suddenly chilled from the removal of the warm sweater against his skin.  “It would take us 48 hours to get there if we didn’t stop.”

 

“Thats, what, four 12-hour driving days?”

 

He nods.  His voice is raspy from the effort of keeping the still, calm atmosphere intact.  “I wouldn’t want to drive for twelve hours straight. Fifteen was horrid and I don’t think I want to do more than ten, but yeah.  We could stop in Seattle then if we did that, and we’d be driving through some awesome places in Canada. But, with our decision to stop when we want…”

 

“...By the time we actually got to Alaska, it would be mid-November at the earliest.”  Evan finishes the thought and sighs dejectedly, picking at the grass under his casted hand.  “I’d rather go in the summer, anyway.” He’s not a huge fan of the snow, if he’s to be completely honest, but Alaska has some very beautiful national parks and he really does want to see them all.

 

Connor’s fingers loosen enough to brush at his palm lightly before curving and hooking their fingers together again and Evan’s stomach drops into the earth, shattering his lungs and causing his breath to go shallow.

 

“We’ll go next summer then.”  Connor’s voice is soothing and calm and does nothing to calm his stacattoing heart.

 

His fingers are warm from where they are linked with Connor’s.  “And then in the fall go to Colorado for the Aspens?”

 

Connor’s face transforms with the light of his smile, head turned and eyes boring into Evan’s with an intensity he hasn’t seen before and the warmth in his fingers spreads to the rest of him.  “Yeah.” He replies hoarsely and Evan can’t help but shift just a hair closer to him.

 

He  _ really _ likes Connor.

 

###  Connor

He’s left Evan sleeping, sprawled out on the bed and snoring lightly, and made his way to a little spot in the forest about a minute walk from their campsite he had found the day they explored the area.  The little clearing has a large boulder with a perfect dip to use as a seat and at night has one of the best views of the sky he’s found yet. 

 

He uses one of the blankets he pilfered as a cushion on the cold rock while draping the second over him and burrowing like a little groundhog in it.  He needs to think and he can’t do that so close to Evan with his soft breaths puffing against his skin no matter how they position themselves distracting him and…

 

Moving on.

 

There is a war going on in his head.  Part of him is screaming and yelling and freaking the fuck out at him for the casual way he had slipped his fingers through Evan’s after that woman nearly killed him with her pokey bag of stabbiness.  

 

The other part is overjoyed that he had taken that risk without thought, and that Evan had responded in like.  True, he had triggered a panic attack, but the awed way Evan had continued to stare at their joined fingers for an hour after he first laced them together grounded him in the knowledge that Evan  _ wanted _ to hold his hand.

 

And if how Evan would turn pink just before brushing his fingers against Connor’s hand as a silent request is any indication of feelings, he still wants to.

 

Connor can’t believe it.  He just can’t comprehend how another human being wants to touch him, to be close to him, allow him to touch them in return.  He scrunches his entire body up and presses his face into his knees in an effort to keep himself from giggling out loud. 

 

He really likes Evan.

 

He can’t help it.  First, he’s so sassy, Connor almost can’t stand it.  Second, he’s absolutely adorable in just about every way.  Third, and probably the most important, he allowed Connor to hold his hand nearly the entire day.

 

Actually no, the most important reason is simply the fact that Evan...stayed.  Even after that night on the log, even after his confessions and tales, even when he has every right to run away screaming in fear of what Connor might do to him.  He’s a blazing inferno, a raging flood, a destructive force that only wipes out the good in his path and leaving only the bad behind. 

 

His smile fades and his giggles taper off as he tilts his head up to stare up at the night sky.  He mentally traces lines through the stars to create his own constellations. A cluster of closely intertwined stars becomes the herd of buffalo they saw pass through the giant clearing behind the campground, Evan’s dslr camera clicking furiously away as he himself gapes at the sight.

 

A spread out smattering of stars combined with a cloud-like nebula becomes the breathtaking sight of Old Faithful billowing her heavy stream of water and steam into the air and Evan in his darkest pair of khakis and simple t-shirt topped with a blue zip hoodie.

 

A particularly beautiful spread of colorful nebula and stars start to take on the forms of the pools at the Lower Geyser Basin they went to yesterday and he finds a smile tugging at his mouth again.  Evan had been so fucking cute the entire day. It is sort of what had given him the courage to reach out and take his hand today.

 

The glassy surface of the great fountain geyser had erupted just as Evan was taking photos from various angles and he had managed to catch the perfect moments just as the stream of the geyser had broken the surface and the flushed excitement and joy on Evan’s face from the experience had remained the rest of the day, even with the horrible smells that emerged from the mud pots they saw just next.

 

They’ve done a lot of simply lounging around the camp in the hammocks or painting or reading.  They’ve even gotten high a couple of times and waded in the water that ran by the camp but Evan didn’t last long in the cold water and sat on the log splashing Connor with his foot and giggling maniacally.  Had it been anyone else, he probably would have shoved him off the log and hoped he’d drown, but everything is different when it comes to Evan.

 

He  _ really _ likes Evan.

 

Maybe tomorrow they can go to Midway Geyser Basin.  If what he overheard while waiting for Evan to finish talking with a ranger about a tree he felt was dying is correct, there is a beautiful hike behind the Grand Prismatic Spring that leads to two remote basins and he just knows Evan will want to see them.  He’s never really been an outdoorsy sort of person, but all the hikes and the lack of negative stimuli has done a wonder on his mood and just for that reason alone, he loves nature now.

 

He wonders just how long it’s all going to last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is still one more chapter for Yellowstone, and then they’re off to their next destination! I love that people are enjoying the story. The next chapter has next to nothing written save the outline, so it might be a bit. I have over 10k written on the rest of the story, just none of it is chapter 12 haha.
> 
> Also, thank you so much for everyone who comments. I don’t really respond to most of them partially because I’m a socially inept recluse who can’t take compliments well, but I do try to respond when people have questions or mention an edit I need to make. I appreciate the kudos and bookmarks as well and I can’t wait to get this the rest of the story out of my head and out to you all!


	12. Adventures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 25
> 
> Even after nearly a month traveling together, Evan still can’t believe just how awkward he still can be around Connor.

###  Connor

“Evan.”

 

The boy named ignores Connor and continues to glare at the numerous plastic bags floating on the faded blue water of the Morning Glory thermal pool.  Connor thinks it’s adorable how angry Evan gets over people doing something as silly as littering, but right now he feels like he’s more important to look at because he’s hilarious and wants to do something but he needs an audience and the only one he cares to watch is Evan, so he calls out his name again.

 

“Evan.”

 

He’s still being ignored.  Hazel eyes flick to the stick in his hand and Evan’s nose wrinkles.  He tosses the inadequate branch back into the woods and starts to hunt around again.  Okay, he knows Evan isn’t going to hear him until he’s completed his self-imposed mission 

 

“Evaaaan.”

 

A sigh of long suffering is heard before Evan lets out a cry of joy and dashes back to the edge of the pool with a long jagged branch with a spread of leafless sticks.  It doesn’t take long for the floating bags to be scooped out and laid out to dry a bit.  He knows Evan will want to use them as trash bags and he smiles a little at just how endearing Evan is when he is in his nature conservationist mode.

 

“Evan.”  He tries a fourth time and finally meets his best friend’s eyes.  “Watch this.” He climbs onto the railing that surrounds the pool and swiftly stands.

 

Evan shrieks and lunges to grab at his ankles and Connor throws his head back and laughs, nearly losing his balance in the process.  “Connor what are you doing!? You’re going to fall, get down!”

 

Only Evan’s hold on him keeps him upright and he almost sits just to re-balance himself.  However, he finds his equilibrium and shoots a smirk at Evan. He’s feeling mischievous and playful and wants Evan to share in it.  “How hot did you say this pool was?”

 

“157 degrees in Fahrenheit, rounded up.”  Evan answers automatically and then claps his casted hand’s fingers over his mouth.  “No, Connor. You are not diving into the pool.”

 

“Eh, water doesn’t boil until around 200 degrees give or take, so I’m fine.”  He crouches down, carefully balancing his fingers on the railing to maintain balance.  “It’s just an extra steamy hot tub.”

 

“Connor Murphy, get down from there right now!”  Evan is clinging to his leg with his good hand and staring up at him with wide, almost wild eyes.

 

“Oh, come on, Hansen!”  Connor giggles and shoves a little at Evan’s shoulder.  “I won’t die.”

 

This doesn’t take the fright away from Evan’s gaze.  “No but you will get third degree burns and the shock alone could kill you and I don’t think I like the idea of you in such extreme pain so please Connor come down from there please I’m begging you.”

 

The playful nature of the exchange vanishes in the wake of Evan’s panic and Connor huffs with an eye roll.  “Come on, let loose a little, Hansen. I’m not actually going to jump. I’m not going to even fall, but I’ll get off the railing if it makes you feel better.”  As much as it begrudges him to do so.

 

However, as he’s turning to jump back down to the path, his foot catches on a knot in the wood that is sticking up and his arms start to windmill as he realizes he’s going down and he only has a second to fall the correct way.  A hand on his shirt wrenches him and he finds himself sprawling back against the paved surface of the path, chest heaving and heart pounding.

 

Evan thankfully doesn’t look pissed off, but he does look terribly frightened still and Connor cringes a little.  “Thanks.” He coughs and stares at the ground between his legs as he brings himself up to a sitting position. A hand appears in front of his eyes and he follows the arm up to his best friend’s ashy face.  

 

“I tried to tell you it was a bad idea.”  Despite the still obvious shakiness to his person, he attempts a smile and Connor loves him a little for it.

 

“And I’ll maybe listen next time.”  He grasps Evan’s hand and pulls himself up to a standing position, dusting off his jeans and smoothing out his hair with one hand while turning the other to thread their fingers together.  “Now, shut up and lead me to the next pool.”   
  


And if at the next bubbling pool of hot spring he convinces Evan to take a picture so it  _ looks _ like he’s about to dive in, well, he has proof that happened at least on Evan’s precious dslr camera.  

 

It hangs swinging about Evan’s neck, heavy and clunky.  He can’t understand why Evan would rather carry that heavy thing around than simply use the high res camera on Connor’s iPhone, but the last time he tried to ask, Evan had gone on a half hour rant about cameras and lenses and resolution and he honestly lost interest about .5 milliseconds into the rant but had at least pretended to listen.  The point is, the only clue he does have is what he remembers from the entire rant which is that Evan likes to use the dslr because he wants to be a professional photographer for National Geographic one day.  Well, maybe he hasn’t told Connor _that_.  Not explicitly, ayway.  But he has alluded to the idea that he would love to someday travel and take pictures around the world so why not aim for a magazine based all around beautiful pictures of nature?  Evan’s photographs are phenomenal. At least, from what he can see on Evan’s tiny-ass laptop screen.  

 

He’s more than willing to stop whenever Evan makes that excited little squeak that marks his only verbal warning for a perfect photo opportunity sighting.  Usually, it’s some plant that looks particularly beautiful or unique in some way, sometimes it’s an animal that happens to stay still long enough to be captured, and what was becoming more commonplace - Connor.

 

“Hey, Connor?  Could...could you do me a favor?”  There’s that slight hesitation in his voice that  has Connor instantly wanting to agree to whatever it is Evan wants regardless of humiliation factor or legality issues.  “Could you stand by the tree with the roots hanging over the rocks?”

 

He sweeps his gaze over the landscape until he sees what Evan is talking about and nods.  Initially, he drapes himself dramatically over the roots and hams it up comedically for the clicking of the camera.  Evan giggles for the first few silly poses and then gently directs him into artfully thoughtful pose after pose and all he can do now is overthink everything including his absolutely overwhelming crush on his best friend.  Though, to be fair, he is pretty certain Evan has a crush on him, too. He hopes, anyway. It would be really awkward to learn Evan thinks all this hand holding is purely platonic bro things.

 

“You really like taking pictures, huh?”  He says casually as he hangs off of one of the branches and swings.

 

Evan nods and finally lowers the camera.  “Yes. Yeah. I mean, I love nature and kind of want to be a conservationist, but I also want to do photography so...yeah.  I don’t know.” But the way he’s fidgeting with the camera strap is something Connor has learned to identify as one of his tells when he’s not being a hundred percent with Connor.

 

“Evan.  You do know.”  He says firmly and when Evan locks eyes with him, they just look at each other for what feels like hours.  Evan’s eyes are searching, for what Connor has no clue, but he’ll wait until Evan finds it.

 

“I want to find a way to use my photography to be a conservationist.”  Evan whispers, but the words are firm and steady. “I want to draw people’s attention to issues without words, I want them to see what is happening to the world with their own eyes and come to their own opinions.”  His hazel eyes are more gold than Connor has ever seen, lit aflame with passion as his voice grows stronger, louder. “I want to be one of those photographers where people look at their photos and say, ‘wow, yeah. That’s amazing.’ or, ‘I can’t believe...I can’t believe this is happening, why aren’t more people trying to help?’”

 

Evan has tears rolling down his cheeks now and Connor swipes with a thumb to wipe the tears away.  “Then we’ll figure out a way. You’ll be a world famous humanitarian conservationist photographer, Evan.  Just you wait and see. You’re going to be amazing.”

 

There are still tears and sniffles but there’s smiles now too and Evan’s fingers are gently stroking at his before he tucks himself against Connor’s chest, humming a little under his breath.  “Only because of you, Connor.”

 

Connor can’t help the surprised sound that escapes and his arms come up automatically to keep Evan in place.  The bulky camera that swings around Evan’s neck is now pinned painfully between them, but if it isn’t bothering Evan, than he can sure as shit pretend it isn’t bothering him.

 

At least for a couple of minutes.

 

_ Only because of you, Connor _ .

 

Evan is probably the only person to think Connor is a help rather than a hindrance.  His parents don’t want him around, Zoe is afraid of him, and it's all for good reason he’ll admit.  

 

_ Only because of you, Connor _ .

 

He buries his flushing cheeks into Evan’s hair and tries not to let his heart fly out of his chest.  “Where do you want to go next?”

 

Evan pulls away enough to look at him with a gleam in his eye.  “Well…”

 

###  Evan

“It looks like a huge dick.”

 

“It looks like a fossilized tree stump, Connor.  Because that is exactly what it is.”

 

“To-may-to, to-mah-to.”

 

While Evan  _ wants  _ to hike through the entirety of the petrified forest, the trailhead is also an unofficial one and parts of it are eroding away and a ranger requested they wait until an official route has been designed so Evan’s just fine with seeing the one free standing along a gravel pathway even if Connor is going to stand there and make dick jokes about it.

 

However, he is not going to give Connor the satisfaction of agreeing that it does look like the hill has an erection from where they are standing because it’s a  _ tree _ that has turned into a  _ rock _ which is fascinating and Connor does not need encouragement when it comes to perverted jokes.  Had he known this was going to be Connor’s reaction, he wouldn't have suggested it when Connor had asked where Evan had wanted to venture next.

 

“I’m going to do art.”  Connor suddenly announces and plunks himself down on a bench, leaving Evan to stand there staring between their ultimate destination and Connor pulling his little travel art supply kit out of his satchel.  It consists of his sketchbook, a polaroid camera, and a number 2 pencil along with a tiny watercolor set with a small book. 

 

Evan nearly throws a pebble at his head when he realizes he is now very rapidly sketching the landscape exactly like a fat old man with an extremely disgusting looking… “Connor James Murphy, you are  _ vile _ .”

 

The sketchbook closes and is slipped back into the bag in one smooth motion.  “I don’t want to forget the mental picture.” He says lightly and Evan bites his lip to keep from smiling like an idiot when Connor takes his hand without even thinking about it and he allows the other boy to drag him down the path.  

 

Their height difference is negligible and he likes it that way.  It feels like they’re on even ground whenever they interact in a physical way and no one has ever made Evan feel like that before.  He never feels small around Connor, nor overpowered or looked over. Connor makes him feel safe.

 

He worries his lip between his teeth, fiddling with a dial on his camera.  Would it be really creepy if he…Connor doesn’t usually mind if he takes pictures of him and the sun just looks so nice and so does Connor.  He hesitates for only a second more before sneaking a glance to see if Connor is looking at him or the path and sees Connor is staring up into the trees like he’s looking for something.

 

_ Perfect _ .  

 

As subtly as he can, he lifts his camera and angles it just so it catches Connor’s hair perfectly in the afternoon sun and illuminates him in a soft glow.   _ Hello new phone background. _

 

The very audible click has Connor’s head dropping and he’s wrinkling his nose at Evan.  “Are you taking pictures of me again?”

 

Evan stops walking which forces Connor to stop, as well.  He’s suddenly very unsure about his decision to take the picture and his fingers start to fiddle with the various straps and buttons on his camera.  “I’m sorry.” He says, the automatic response still instinctual, just not usually around Connor. Even after nearly a month traveling together, Evan still can’t believe just how awkward he still can be around his best friend.  “You just...you looked so pretty. You looked like...I’m sorry I just had to keep that moment.”

 

“Oh.”  His cheeks instantly flush a bright pink and are quickly turning red and his shoulders are beginning to hunch up in what Evan has learned is his ‘I’m extremely uncomfortable because I think you’re complimenting me and I don’t know how to respond to that help’ pose and he immediately wants to soothe away the embarrassment.

 

“Do you want me to ask next time?  I can...I can always ask. I usually do, I know, and I won’t not ask again.  I...I can get rid of the picture.” He isn’t looking at Connor now but at the picture, finger at the ready to delete should Connor demand it of him.

 

The sigh released is one Evan can feel deep in his bones through the hand still holding his.  “No.” Connor whispers so lowly Evan’s not sure he wants him to hear. “I like that you think I’m nice enough to take surprise pictures of.”  He’s not meeting Evan’s eyes, but he doesn’t really care about that because there’s a shy little smile that is wrinkling Connor’s mouth and the corners of his eyes and God he’s so pretty.

 

“You’re perfect.”  He blurts and then his face is suddenly resembling a tomato and he wants to find the nearest geyser and drop himself into it.  He didn’t want to say  _ that _ out loud.  “The...the perfect subject.  For pictures.” 

 

If anything, Connor’s eyes only brighten further and Evan can see the red creeping down his neck now.  “No, no, let’s go back to how I’m perfect.” He’s giggling a little now and it eases Evan’s panic just a bit when Connor finally meets his eyes again.

 

“To take pictures of.”  He emphasizes and Connor snickers a little as he tugs on Evan’s hand to get them walking again.

 

“Uh huh.  Sure thing, Hansen.” 

 

He still feels like he should jump into a boiling hot spring, but he supposes if Connor still wants to hold his hand even after that embarrassing display, then he could  _ probably _ stop worrying about it.

 

Maybe.

 

They’re now in front of the petrified tree and Connor hums over it like an art critic at a museum, thumb and forefinger massaging at his chin thoughtfully as he looks the tree up and down.  “It looks less like a dick from up close.”

 

“At least not a dick you’d want to see this close to you.”  Evan quips and the other boy snorts before chuckling under his breath.

 

“It’s one diseased dick.”  Connor looks over at the hill and shakes his head sadly.  “I’m so sorry, hill. You should go see a doctor before you bed any more sexy mountains.  I’d hate for those other trees to end up like you.”

  
“ _ Connor _ .”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That’s not how petrified trees work, Connor.


	13. Bon Voyage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 39  
> Oct 15  
> They’ve been here in Yellowstone an entire month, and Evan still doesn’t want to leave.
> 
>  
> 
> (Dates are literally from the 2019 calendar and there's no reason for it at all except to help me and you track time and seasons. woo.)

 

###  Evan

 

The morning is cold enough that the condensation inside the tent has frozen into little beads and he greatly regrets insisting on sleeping their last night outside when they have the 12 volt heater for the jeep.  He’s not sure why he’s awake except for the fact that he is freezing so really, he knows exactly why he’s awake. He can’t feel either his fingers or his toes and shivers as he wiggles them to try and coax some feeling back into them.  The sun isn’t up, there isn’t a single sound around them to signal that the one other camper in the area is awake either, so he’s a little pissed that he is awake right now.

 

Yes, Evan regrets sleeping in the tent.  He reluctantly rubs his eyes and yawns before briskly rubbing his goosefleshing arms, even under his two layers of long sleeved shirts.  He squints as he looks at the time on the phone.  _ 5 am.   _ Great.  He’s only gotten about an hours worth of sleep, if one didn’t count the tossing and turning he had done until 4 am.   A loud snore startles him and he glares at Connor, whose hair fans in a tangled mess around his head, some caught in the drool around his mouth.

 

He slipped his hat, gloves, and two sweatshirts over his pajamas - he can’t believe he forgot his heavy winter coat at home, they’re going to need to stop at a thrift store or something before winter hits -  and slipped out of the tent as quietly as he could. There isn’t a point in trying to fall back asleep. He is too cold and to awake and too keyed up with eagerness to continue on to Boulder. It was a toss up in their discussion last night, between driving west first, but in the end they decided to head through Colorado so they could see some of the national parks in the snow.

 

Plus, Connor’s supply of weed is critically low and Evan is certain he can find a shop somewhere in Colorado that will accept his out of state medical card.  If not, maybe they can find some really nice stoners to buy the stuff for them. At least, Connor seems confident they can find some good Samaritan to buy them weed. Evan is not so sure on that.

 

His footsteps crunch as he pads his way across the gravely dirt towards the fire pit.  He quickly piles bits of twig and dried pine needles and slowly builds the fire until he can walk away from it enough to dig through what is left of their food supply to assess what they will eat for breakfast.  It seems that protein bars are on the menu as everything else requires too much time to cook and he sighs dejectedly.

 

They’ll need to stop somewhere to restock their little refrigerator and some of their other supplies.   Hopefully they can find a cheaper place to stay in or near Boulder so they can branch out from there to see everything that they can and wish to.  He’s not sure how long their cash will last them, and he doesn’t want it to run out sooner than they’re ready. The crackling of the fire jolts him back to the here and now.

 

He looks at the phone again.   _ 5:15. _  Connor won’t even stir until 6, but it’s more likely he’ll wake around 8 but even then he won’t be awake enough to eat anything so he busies himself with poking at the fire with a blackened stick.  He doesn’t know how the other boy can sleep when his face is turning to ice, but then again Evan’s circulation has always been rather poor, so maybe Connor doesn’t have the same problems Evan does. In fact, he’s certain of it.  They do share a bed and Connor is a literal furnace, even with his scrawny lanky frame.

 

They’ve been here in Yellowstone an entire month, and Evan still doesn’t want to leave.  He should be bored, he’s not sure anyone else could fill a month of just Yellowstone, but they have.  He feels like there are still a few paths they weren’t able to get to, still an animal or two he’s certain they haven’t seen, not to mention just how at home he feels here at this silly campsite with its creek and log and amazing memories and he just doesn’t want to leave it.  Not yet.

 

But they have to.  Unless they want to move down to the year round campgrounds with their hundreds of sites and rv’s with children and pets and noise and no thank you, not if Evan can help it.

 

He wonders what Connor is going to do when they are closer to civilization, to more people.  He knows he’s been creeping about the forest at night when he thinks Evan is asleep to go scream and yell out any pent up anger or energy that he’s been holding in all day and it both breaks and warms Evan’s heart each night Connor goes out because he obviously wants to keep it away from Evan.  He still struggles, but he’s trying just for Evan and the very fact that he’s managing to hold onto anything until he’s alone is nothing short of amazing in Evan’s eyes. The visits had been growing further apart until two nights ago and he knows that tonight Connor only came to bed around 4 because he was still awake when the tent flap opened and Connor almost collapsed into bed, reeking of weed and sweat and adrenaline.

 

He wishes Connor would let him into that part of him, let him help, but he knows how stubborn his friend is, how proud he can be.

 

A breeze flows through the campsite and he shivers violently and shuffles closer to the fire’s warmth.  The flames are mesmerizing and he kind of wants to take some pictures of the dancing fire but he has an entire folder of just Yellowstone fire pictures and maybe he has enough and doesn’t need to leave the warmth to fetch his camera.

 

He fetches it anyway because what if a moose walks through their camp?  Or a deer? Or a bear!? He’d want to take a picture of it before being eaten or gored, and at least it would be an interesting way to go.  Sort of like Steve Irwin, in a way, and honestly Evan can’t think of a better way to go when the time comes.

 

Of course, it’s not even 6 am yet so Evan is alone with his thoughts, and as they tend to do, they drift towards the morose and depressing.  The camera in his hands is his pride and joy, but it wasn’t always that way. The camera had been a “sorry I’m never around this makes up for it right?” from his dad for his thirteenth birthday.  He had nearly sent it back saying fuck off, but had instead kept it under his bed until mid sophomore year. He hadn’t had a clue how to take pictures other than point and click and it took a couple of years and countless youtube tutorials for him to fully grasp how to frame the picture but he likes to think that he does really well now.  At least Connor seems to think so.

 

If he ever becomes a famous photographer, he’s going to make sure his father knows it wasn’t because of him.  It’s going to be because of  _ him _ , of Evan and his own hard work and perseverance.  It’s also going to be because of Connor, because without him, Evan would never find the courage to pursue his dreams.  He would be content to stay hiding where no one can see him, no one can find him to mock him about what it is he does and loves.

 

He tosses a log on the fire and watches as the wood darkens and eventually ignites and gives a little huff of relief.  No matter how many times he’s successfully built and stocked the campfire, he’s still afraid he’s going to accidentally extinguish it because he tosses a log in too hard, or stirs it too soon, or a flash rainstorm will hit because Evan hadn’t checked the phases of the moon in concurrence with the planets rotation, or some other freak random happenstance that has next to no chance of happening but his anxiety has decided that a .000001% chance is enough to panic over so here he is every single time he touches the campfire.

 

Evan jolts out of his thoughts when a zipper sounds noisily through the quiet early morning atmosphere. Connor comes out of the tent rubbing his face with both palms and yawning widely and Evan can’t help but smile at the cute picture his best friend makes standing there in the early morning sunlight, flyaways glinting in the light, bleary eyed and ruffled and Evan shuffles over on their little homemade bench to make room for the blanket clad boy still asleep on his feet.

 

It will be another half an hour before Connor is even verbal and Evan is content to wait as the warm body sits next to him so they are pressed firmly from their shoulders down to where fingers will come to tap on his knee just as soon as Connor wordlessly wraps the blanket around his shoulders, too.  It’s been their routine since the first morning after they first held hands. What will change in their routine is that after they prepare breakfast, they’ll load up the jeep and be on their way to Colorado. As for now, Evan is content.

 

###  Connor

 

“Wait, wait.”  He seriously did not hear Evan read the name of a real campground.  “Did you just say _Gross Reservoir_ is a place we can camp at?”  They are staying there.  He doesn’t care how loudly Evan protests the name, and he’s going to, Connor just knows it, he wants to stay there.  That name is fucking hilarious.

 

Evan, of course, does protest.  “No! That’s horrible! What if it means that the reservoir is a disgusting marsh-like area that smells and has a lot of bugs and what if it has a crocodile or something Connor that would be very gross.”

 

He nearly has to pull the car over and stop just he can process Evan’s logic.  There isn’t any to be found and he glances at his best friend and crush and god he’s adorable even when absolutely confusingly _ wrong _ .  “You do know the word gross has like, a million different definitions.  Not to mention...Colorado doesn't have crocodiles.”

 

"They do at the zoo."  Evan mutters before sighing.  “And I think you might...um.  Be exaggerating. Just a bit.”  He looks adorable with the head tilted like that and his eyes all scrunched and confused and fuck he’s gay.

 

Very gay.

 

“Okay maybe but still.  There are a bunch of definitions.”

 

“Like what?”

 

Connor grins widely.  He can feel the smugness just radiating from his pores because all his years in middle school of obsessively reading the dictionary is going to come in handy.  God he was such a nerd. “Ahem.” He pulls one hand off the steering wheel to cough dramatically into his fist as if a professor about to begin a long lecture.  “Gross Reservoir could be a culmination of very obvious and blatantly unacceptable displays of wrongdoings.”

 

Evan snorts and pulls his knees up to his chest.  “Then we’re definitely not staying there.”

 

“Fine.”  He thinks through the other ways the word can be used.  “Ah. It could be a culmination of tax free money like gifts, income, interest, or profit.”

 

“Now there’s a reservoir I’d stay at.”

 

“You and me both.”  They snicker and Evan starts to flip through the music and adding to the current playlist.  Connor lets him because Evan actually doesn’t have shit taste in music so he’ll allow his precious driving playlist be altered.  A flock of geese went honking over head and he suddenly pictures a gross of geese driving a car to migrate instead of flying and snorts so loudly Evan jumps.

 

“What the hell?”

 

“Sorry.”  He says still laughing.  “But.  A gross can also be 12 dozen of something.”  He can’t finish because he’s laughing too hard.

 

Evan rolls his eyes a little but a bare hint of a smile betrays his true amusement.  “And?”

 

“A gross of geese inside a car!”  It’s all he can manage to say before he’s laughing again.

 

Evan blinks.  And then coughs a little and looks away from Connor as if that will help the growing laughter Connor can see wiggling up his torso and his shoulders.  “Oh my fucking  _ god _ Connor.”  Evan finally breaks and the car is filled with rolling giggles and hiccups and snorts as they struggle to bring themselves back under control.  

 

“How...How far are we?”  Connor asks, gasping for oxygen.  Even after this past month, he hasn’t gotten used to how Evan can make him completely forget himself in laughter.  He hasn’t been able to do that in years. It isn’t erasing the anger, nothing short of medication and therapy can do that, but it is helping make it easier to hide it long enough to deal with it without collateral damage.

 

God, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he ever hurt Evan.

 

“About fifteen minutes away according to Google Maps.”  Evan announced cheerfully and he grunts.

 

“Perfect.  I can’t fucking wait to see what kind of campsites are available here.”

 

“And what kind of Gross the reservoir is.”

 

As it turns out, from what they can see of it, the reservoir is a perfectly normal body of water.  It’s the journey up and through the bumpy road to even get there that is the problem.  The jeep has the clearance, but he doesn’t want to rattle all their expensive equipment and potentially break shit, either.

 

They both slide out of the car to stretch their legs before leaning against the jeep trying to decide where to go.  “What do you want to do, Hansen?”

 

“Find somewhere else, I suppose.”  Evan shrugs. “I know your heart was set on this place…”

 

“Only because of the name.”  Connor interrupts with a frown.  He didn’t want to go there because of any other reason, and he needs Evan to understand that so they can make a new choice.  He doesn’t need a panic attack to happen because of Evan is convinced Connor is going to be unhappy with the change.  “The name is hilarious.  That is literally the only reason, I promise.”

 

“You dudes need help?”  A guy that looks like he stepped straight of a lumberjack magazine is waving at them from a pickup with massively raised wheels and Connor almost thinks he's a guardian angel with his timing.

 

Evan stares at the ground and lets out a squeak of fear at the sudden voice. Connor rolls his eyes and nods.  “Sure. We’re looking for a cheap place to stay that doesn’t require this stupid ass road to get in an out of.  We want to stay for awhile and explore, so I don’t know if you have any recommendations or not.”

 

“Yeah, road isn’t practical for that at all.”  Connor finds himself being appraised by the driver of the pickup.  “I’m Jamie.” He says suddenly and motions to the other boy next to him who grins widely, showing his buckteeth proudly. 

 

“Ryan.”  He says in a thick southern drawl.  “And you are…?”

 

“Connor.”  The brunette nods and then nudges Evan who waves weakly.  “And this is Evan.”

 

The two college boys’ eyes widen.  The taller blond, Jamie Connor thinks was the name, is the first to recover.  “Connor...Murphy and Evan Hansen?"

 

Instantly the two boys are on edge.  "What the fuck?"  Connor shouts and fumbles for the handle behind him.  He knows his paranoia can be a little out of whack, but two strangers knowing both of their names seems a bit out of left field even for his brain.  "How the fuck do you know our names?"  His brain is screaming for him to get the fuck out of there and Evan's frozen state of panic tells him the same thing.  He tugs on Evan's arm but the boy doesn't move.

Ryan is the one who answers and the answer does nothing but chill Connor's blood. "Dude, you guys have a Facebook page dedicated to finding you!” 

 

  
That brings Evan back to life.  “We have a  _ what?! _ ”


	14. Of Panic and Kindness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 40  
> Oct 16  
> Just because he’s been doing well for a while doesn’t mean his anxiety is cured.

 

### Evan

 

Surprisingly, it takes almost a full day for it to sink in enough for Evan to have a full blown panic attack over it all.

 

~~*~*~~

_The Day Before_

 

“Shut up, it’s not a Facebook page.  It’s just my creepy ass sister who likes to keep tabs on the school population.  She’s done it since she was in first grade with every single one of her classes and her stalking only grows worse as she gets older.”  A third boy pokes his head out through the middle of the two front seats and introduces himself as Carson Beck while rubbing his eyes.  It is clear that they had woken the other guy up with their conversation. Evan’s eyes widen when he involuntarily looks straight at the other boy and immediately sees the resemblance to their classmate.

 

Apparently Connor does, too.

 

“Holy fuck, you’re Alana Beck’s older brother?”  Evan isn’t sure the human voice is supposed to go that high, and he has certainly never heard Connor’s do so.  

 

Carson’s eyebrow raises and Evan can suddenly understand the phrase ‘shooting daggers’ when it comes to describing a sharp angry look.  Apparently, he doesn't like that comparison.

 

“Yeah, I am.”  He says coldly before looking back to Evan. “I graduated three years ago. She keeps posting updates in the school Facebook page that declare how many days you've been missing from school.”

 

Evan can’t breath.  It’s been so long since he’s felt like this he’s nearly forgotten how much it sucks to be in the beginning stages of a panic attack.  “How...how can she...Does Alana know we….she can’t know. No one knows we know each other, Connor, no one knows who could know _how did she know_?!”

 

“Chillax.”  Evan suddenly finds his face pressed against Connor’s sweatshirt in what can only be what he’s considering a comforting hug and he allows it to be enough so he can pull his breathing back under control and step back with a grateful smile.  Connor’s mouth quirks in response and his hand finds Evan’s easily and he feels himself settle more with the familiar action.

 

Evan looks at the roof of the truck when he speaks, but manages to address the boys inside anyway.  “She doesn’t know we’re together, does she?”

 

The three all shrug.  “She doesn’t say. It’s literally a post that reads of some names and the days she’s noticed they aren’t in school.”  He flips around on his phone before turning to to face the two boys and Evan reads off out loud, “Maxwell Hoppe. Last seen September 5. Connor Murphy.  Last seen September 6. Evan Hansen. Last seen September 6. Maryanne Miller...there are like twenty five others, what the hell?”

 

“And no one...comments, right?”  Connor asks in a rush, like he’s trying so hard to not run as far from the three boys in the truck as fast as he can.

 

“Couple people do sometimes.  Your sister does, on every single one.  Mostly obscenity filled rants that Alana immediately deletes if it has more than five swear words.  I think the last post a new guy commented, but that’s it. No one seems to be too concerned any of the kids aren’t in school.”

 

“Who was it?  The...the new guy.”  Evan asks, voice starting to climb in pitch as he starts to think of all the ways this is all going pear shaped.  Connor is going to leave him here and run and he’s going to be friendless again and...

 

“Jared Something-or-other.”

 

Oh god oh god oh god...  Evan’s hands fly up to grip at his hair and the internal stream of babble changes to verbal. “Oh god oh god oh god oh god Jared knows Jared knows what did he say!?”

 

Carson looks apologetic when he finds the status updates and reads, “Lulz.”

 

He thinks a month ago he would have been crushed by the remark.  Now, however, it works as an instant anxiety release and he just lets his hands drop as he rolls his eyes and shrugs and mutters under his breath.  “I mean, I always knew he wouldn’t care if I disappeared.” All that panic over nothing. Jared has never cared, not really.  Why would he care now?

 

“Is there a way to get her off our backs?  And all of the kids she keeps talking about?  Like, Jake isn’t missing. Everyone knew as soon as he turned 18 he was joining the Marines.”  Connor demands, his voice a lot sharper than Evan has heard since the first couple of days together.  

 

“I mean, I could tell her I found you, but I feel like that’s not what you want.”  Carson seems so nonchalant about it all and it kind of pisses Evan off a bit. Apparently, it really pisses Connor off.

 

“No, you fucking moron, you think?!”

 

He doesn’t need to sound _that_ venomous.  “Connor, you might want to...”

 

“Shut _up_ , Evan!”

 

He freezes, blood running like ice.  Connor hasn’t yelled at him in...well, a really long while.   _Calm down_ .  He demands silently.   _Connor is stressed.  It isn’t you, no matter how much you think it might be you know it isn’t you have to believe it isn’t, okay?  You shut down, Connor shouts. That is how you both handle stress._  He’ll handle his own stress later when he can panic properly.  

 

“You can’t tell anyone.”  He hears himself say and he sees Connor’s shoulders slump in relief.  Evan doesn’t know if it’s because he’s not yelling at Connor in return or if Evan had managed to say what Connor can’t.  Even the small smile doesn’t take away the twisty anxiety dwelling in his stomach, though. He doesn’t like being yelled at, even if it’s not _him_ that’s the true frustration.  “We’re not ready for anyone to know where we are and we might never be because we left for a reason and we don’t want to be found.  Not...not yet.”

 

Ryan narrows his eyes at him.  “Alright, I s’pose we can do that.  If you can promise me something.”

 

Evan nods, unable to verbalize a response after the brief outburst.

 

“This ain’t just some last hoorah sort of thing?”

 

Both boys shake their heads violently.  “It was an ‘instead of’.” Connor admits, shoving his hands deep into his pockets.

 

“Yeah, no.  You're staying with us.”  Jamie interjects and digs around in the pickup for something.  He emerges with a paper and a pen and quickly scribbles out the address and a phone number.  “Call me if you get lost. Follow us. I got a place you can park your jeep and the entire basement is an apartment we occasionally AirBnB out and it’s free right now.”  As if sensing their hesitation, he adds. “It has a completely separate entrance from the house and you can’t access from the inside of the main house if you deadbolt the door.”

 

“Besides, at least Connor and Evan know me.”  Carson grins a wide, toothy grin that is too much teeth and not enough amusement.

 

“That doesn’t reassure me in the slightest.”  Connor mutters and Carson’s shark grin only grows.

 

“Dude, fuck off.”  Jamie shoves at Carson’s shoulder to shove him back into the back seat.  “Don’t be a bully. Leave the high schooler alone.”

 

“We’re both eighteen.”

 

“Fine, never mind.  Bully away then.”

 

When Carson opens his mouth, Ryan shoves a wad of paper towel into the cavern and the boy nearly chokes on it.  “Dude what the hell?” He snarls, spitting the paper out and smacking his mouth as if extremely dry.

 

“You were about to make an idiot of yourself.  Again.” Ryan turns apologetic eyes to the two boys.  “He’s not a roommate. Just a friend.”

 

“Yeah, because I'm way too cool to room with you.”

 

“Keep telling yourself that buddy.”

 

~~*~*~~

_Now_

 

It’s near lunch and Evan is hungry but he's also a bit busy at the moment.

 

He can hear Connor talking to him, but he can’t retain any of the words.  All he knows is that his chest feels like a thousand elephants are standing on it at once and that a thousand rubber bands are wrapped around his lungs and his heart has been injected with a thousand milligrams of pure caffeine and god he’s dying he’s going to die.

 

“You’re not dying.  You just feel like you are.”

 

Words.  All they are are words with no meaning.  Dying, he’s dying because he feels so shitty right now, why would he feel like he was dying if he wasn’t actually dying?

 

“You think I’d let you die on my watch?”  

 

How is Connor responding to his thoughts?

 

“You’re talking out loud dumbass.  Granted it’s barely one or two very badly garbled words, but I can get the gist of what you’re saying.”

 

_OH_.

 

Evan wheezes when he tries to draw in a breath.  It rattles and it hurts but he’s able to do it. He can’t use the breath to speak when he thinks about it yet, but he can breath again and that is the biggest relief.

 

“I’m guessing this is because of yesterday.”

 

Evan manages a nod from where he is a trembling ball of human laying on the bed.  

 

“They don’t know where we are.  And Jamie, Ryan, and Carson all promised to keep their mouths shut about where we are.  If I’m taking them at their word, that means something, so you can relax.” Connor has a way of speaking that is calming and soothing despite the harsh undertones that always seem to exist there and it never fails to help in grounding Evan even when logical thought has a hard time sticking.

 

He’s still panicking, he’s still anxious that Jared will somehow be able to trace where they are and provide the information that will lead a cavalry to ‘save’ them, but Connor is there and Connor is his rock and he can weather this attack out.  And maybe he’ll also take a nap when he’s done.

 

### Connor

He leaves Evan snoring in the bedroom they’re sharing here and heads up the stairs to the main level to find one of their two new roommates.  He thinks he heard one of them mention they were a psych major and he has some questions about coping mechanisms because both he and Evan could use some.  He can already feel his anger levels bubbling deep in his gut.  He suddenly desperately wants to be back at Yellowstone with their secluded campsite and the peace of nature and lack of busy stimuli.  He can already feel himself starting to feel a bit overwhelmed and he hates the feeling so much.

 

“He okay?”  Connor starts and turns to see Jamie sitting at the table with a cup of something steaming and a couple of textbooks and papers scattered over the dining table.  “Dude, it’s like 2 in the afternoon. This is tea.”

 

Connor didn’t think he was giving a judgmental look but then again he’s not always aware of himself and what he looks and sounds like so he could be very judgmental right now.  “I think he’ll be good now that he’s freaked it all out.”

 

Jamie frowns over his mug.  “Poor phrasing choice there.”  He sets his pen down and evaluates Connor with a single look that he instantly hates.  He thinks Jamie is probably the psych major just based on that look.  Besides, he knows.  He’s the king of poor phrasing.  He may not have Evan’s anxiety levels but that doesn't mean he’s any better at relating to and speaking with other members of the human race.  Honestly, Evan is an anomaly.

 

He turns the hot water kettle back on.  He wants some tea now, too.

 

“Out of the five, I’m guessing social anxiety combined with a panic disorder.”  Jamie says rather calmly and Connor's eyes widen before nods just the once.  Jamie is definitely the psych major.

 

“That’s what he’s told me, anyway.  His therapist had him writing these dumb letters to himself about how today was going to be not shitty.”  Connor snorts. He thinks it’s the stupidest idea and so does Evan. He’s complained multiple times about how pointless the exercise was and how it really ended up being a stupid diary and he hated every moment he had to spend writing them.

 

Of course, he knows Evan still writes but now it’s in a hardcover journal with printouts of his pictures and the story attached to the photo scribbled next to it.  When he had seen the other boy writing in it at Yellowstone he had asked Evan about it and Evan had shrugged and blushed a bit before explaining that he didn’t mind writing about his day, he just hated that it had to be a letter to himself talking about what he was _going_ to do instead of what he did do.

 

“Yeah, the ‘today’s gonna be good and here’s why’ doesn’t work for everyone.”  Jamie agrees and grins when Connor explains about Evan’s journal. “See, that’s better for his anxiety.  Focus on the positive, yes, but make it the real positive, not the ones you wish were true. Find the positive that already exists every day and write about it.”

 

Connor shrugs in an effort to hide just how much Jamie is making his skin crawl with being _understood_.  “I’ll leave that for Evan.”

 

Jamie chuckles a little.  “Well, what do you like to do?”

 

“I paint.”  The answer is immediate.  “Watercolors.”

 

The college boy’s laugh is much louder now, and bright and friendly and for once Connor can’t find a hint of mockery in someone’s laughter, Evan excluded of course.  “That can be your form of journaling, you know. It doesn’t have to be words and photographs. It can be art, doodles, whatever you need.”

 

It’s an idea.  He already paints out his emotions, why not his day, too?  Little sketches and doodles and he thinks of his sketchbook and flushes.  He already does that. His sketch book is filled with polaroid pictures and line drawings and little watercolor pictures and he trails fingers along the table thinking of what he could draw for today.

 

“Honey, I’m hoooome!”  Ryan’s drawl bounces through the house and Jamie shakes his head.

 

“He thinks he’s funny every time.”  He whispers to Connor before raising his voice to be heard.  “We’re in the dining room.”

 

Connor could smell the pungent scent of weed even before he saw Ryan.  A large paper bag makes a thud as Ryan drops it onto the table. “I restocked our supply and told my uncle ‘bout our new temporary roommates and he hooked you two up.”  A separate large paper bag is thrust into Connors hands and he automatically closes his hands around the sack and peers inside.

 

Three vacuum sealed 1 liter mason jars stuffed with dense looking dried bud rest inside the bag, along with about a dozen cartridges that he knows will fit Evan’s little pen.  “The tubes are medical grade CBD, should be just as good or even better than the shit you get in New York. My uncle runs a greenhouse for a couple of medical dispensaries in the area so I get shit super cheap.”

 

Connor can’t formulate a response.  Not even a thank you is emerging because he can barely process just what he’s been handed.  Back home, this amount of weed would probably cost him what Evan had made all summer from his job in the park. “How, how much…”

 

“Take it.  I didn’t pay for it, he gave it to me for you and Evan.”  Connor isn’t sure how he feels about him and Evan being discussed and his eyes narrow in suspicion.  If what he remembers, each of those fucking jars can hold 3 full ounces of weed and if one has the right strain, even more, which makes no less than _nine full ounces_ not to mention the twelve, here he picks up one cartridge container to read the size, 500mg holy shit that’s 6000... _what the hell is he getting from this deal?  What did he doe?_

 

“You didn’t…”

 

Ryan cuts him off with a slash of a hand and a firm denial that reassures Connor only a little.  “No names, I promise. Just said I had a couple new temporary roommates who needed medical weed but no time to get an in state card. ”  He pats Connor’s shoulder and moves into the kitchen. “I’m going to start dinner.”

 

Connor can't believe it.  He didn't give away their position.  He didn't mention them to anyone.

 

Jamie looks up from where he’s been staring at the paper bag and eyes the clock for a bit before turning to his roommate with a skeptical face.  “What the fuck are you making that’s going to take three hours?”

 

“French onion soup.”

 

“Continue on, my man.”  Ryan waves a little salute and marches off into the kitchen as Jamie rubs at his stomach and groans happily.  “He’s a fantastic cook. I'm going to gain so much weight this year.”

 

Connor nods, not really up to a laugh but also not feeling horrible.  He’s stunned, too flabbergasted at the kindness of someone who hasn’t even known them for twenty-four hours, too unaccustomed to any sort of kindness from anyone outside of his friendship with Evan.

 

Jamie seems to notice this and show absolutely no surprise.  “His family are the most wonderful human beings you could ever ask for.  They are redneck as _fuck._ It’s actually kind of funny to watch Ryan around them because if you think his accent is bad now, just wait until he’s around his family.  But, yeah. Seriously. They will give you the shirt of your back if you needed it more than they did.”

 

They sound like amazing people he wants to meet now and he feels a corner of his mouth lift a bit.  

 

“Are you okay, Connor?”  The college boy asks and Connor immediately nods that yes, he is just fine.

 

“Right now, I’m just worried about Evan.”  He admits and Jamie hmms a little.

 

“Just keep encouraging him to do things outside his comfort zone.  I actually just turned in an essay about anxiety and ways to help combat it so it’s all really fresh in my mind right now.”  He grins and Connor absently notes that his teeth are very white and very straight and he wonders just how much his parents spent on that smile.  His own refused.

 

“So...was there anything else?”

 

Jamie looks up from his book again.  “Hmm? Oh, sorry! Basically, the only way to get over social anxiety is to practice what makes you anxious, and writing letters to yourself opens it up to become only the depressive stuff in your life.  At least, that’s how it seems to be in Evan’s case. I know I really benefited from writing letters to myself when I was fourteen and in rehab but I also don’t have the same anxieties that seem to plague your boyfriend.”

 

Connor’s eyes fly wide open.  “Oh, we’re just...We’re not...We like each other, but...We’re just friends.”

 

“For now?”

 

A smile finally creeps its way fully across his face as he thinks of all the times Evan has initiated a hug, or has linked his fingers with Connors, or just leaned his head over on his shoulder.  “For now.” He agrees and leans back in the chair a bit when he hears footsteps coming from the door to the basement.

 

Evan’s tousled sleepy head comes into view and the boy immediately makes his way to Connor and snuggles up next to him while leaning full body against him.  “I forgot how tired I get.” He mumbles and Connor’s hand comes up to help stabilize Evan.

 

"It has been while, huh?"  He feels Evan nod against his shoulder and huffs a small laugh.  “You could still sleep.”  Connor whispers and Evan shakes his head without opening his eyes.

 

“If I sleep more now, I won’t sleep tonight.”  He says simply and slowly pulls back to sit in the chair next to Connor.  “Oh!” He finally sees Jamie also at the table and flushes a deep red. “I’m...I’m so sorry.  That must have been so awkward oh my god I can’t believe I was so rude I’m so sorry…”

 

“Evanstine.”  

 

The nickname is so out of the blue that he stops out of pure shock.  “What?”

 

Connor flushes.  “I don’t know. It’s the only thing I could think of.”

 

Evan just blinks at him and he hears Jamie sigh just a little.  it was more of a small breath than anything, but Connor assumes everything is a sigh of annoyance or impatience and he should probably work on that.  "You weren't being rude.  You were being perfectly PG."

 

Evan laughs and Connor wants to record it so he can listen to it on his bad days.  “So, um, I think we - and you can disagree I won’t get mad I promise - but I think we should, it would be a good idea to email, well to contact someone to at least, I’m not sure it’s a good idea to let people think we’re dead, Connor.”

 

He doesn’t disagree, surprisingly enough.  Just the fact that Alana Beck fucking notices the fact that he’s not at school, despite the fact he’s never spoken to her and especially after that...stunt he pulled back in freshman year, she has every right not to include him on her list of students she feels are missing and should be found.  "Yeah, I suppose.”  He says, effectively cutting off Evan’s stammering, run-on of a tirade.

 

“Oh!”  Evan looks surprised and he honestly can’t blame him.  “Well, we can use one of those websites that give you a temporary email address.”

 

“We’ll have to run it under a proxy.  Or three.” Connor demands instantly, feeling the fear creeping up his spine again.  ‘I am not risking being found.”

 

To his surprise, Evan doesn’t even flinch at the request.  “Absolutely. If anyone could trace a supposedly untraceable email, it would be Jared Kleinman.”

 

In the end, it’s decided that the email will be sent to Heidi because out of all of their parents, at least she cares enough that she put Evan in therapy instead of ignoring his problems completely.

 

It’s very short, very uninformative except for that they left of their own volition and that they are alive and well.  Evan insists on including a picture and Connor reluctantly agrees, he still thinks its a bad idea to let anyone know that they are together, and Evan attaches one he had set on a tripod with a wireless trigger near sunset as they sat on the log talking.  It’s definitely them, and they’re definitely not being held hostage. They look entirely too happy in the picture for Connor’s liking, but it’s important to Evan that his mom knows he’s at least alive and well. He can’t be like his father.

 

Connor understands, a little.  Evan’s dad left them high and dry, and Evan’s just realized he did the same thing and wants to desperately correct at least some of the hurt he’s caused.  And he’ll be damned if won’t allow Evan as much peace of mind as he can muster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't dislike Alana, just wanna put it out there. Older brothers often don't like younger siblings (I am both an older sibling, and a younger, so I know the pain of both sides). I see her as caring a lot about others but lacking the proper social skills to do it in a way that isn't perceived as super creepy or weird.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 46  
> Oct 22
> 
>  
> 
> It is far past time they visit the mountains. They’ve already been here for 6 days and haven’t made the trip to Rocky Mountain National Park or Estes Park.

### Evan

 

Evan has had it up to _here_ with Connor sniping at him for every little thing.  He understands that he can’t necessarily help his mood swings, but he _can_ help taking it out on _him_.  “Go shower, please Connor.”

 

“Don’t tell me what to do, Hansen.”

 

Evan ignores him and rifles through the single suitcase all their clothing had migrated to to find a pair of clean boxers and threw them at Connor’s face.  “Shower.”

 

“Fuck you.”

 

“Shower.”

 

“Fuck _off,_ Evan.”

 

“Connor, I love you and you are my very best friend and I would like to keep it that way so please go take a _fucking shower before I drown you in the bathtub_.”  Connor blinks at him, mouth still open to say some other form of ‘fuck you’.  It seems that Evan has found Connor’s off switch - him saying fuck. Either that or it was the threat.  Either way, at least Connor is listening to him now.

 

“You love me?”  Or maybe it was that.  Now that he thinks about it, neither of them have actually said anything of the sort to each other and maybe it is far past the time they start.

 

Evan sighs and christ it even _sounds_ loving.  “You are my best friend of course I love you.”

 

But Connor’s reply is small and broken and it breaks Evan’s heart.  “Why?”

 

Why indeed?  Evan has a list.

 

Well, rather he has his entire journal because the things he thinks are amazing about Connor are littered throughout his words and pictures and stories about their days.  Photographs accompanied by bullet points and sketches and the occasional tear when he just can’t help his emotions because they’ve been friends for 46 days, not that he’s keeping track of course he isn’t that would be ridiculous and silly and obsessive and Evan definitely isn’t any of those except maybe he is.  Connor is his rock, sometimes it feels like he’s his sanity though that isn’t very fair to pin that on another human being so Evan won’t tell him that.

 

He does know what he will say, however, because Connor deserves to know something, even if Evan can’t share it all yet.  He gives Connor a little smile. “You are the only one I’m never nervous around.” He hopes Connor understands the magnitude behind the statement because he’s not sure he can explain further, not without sharing his journal and he’s not ready to do that.

 

Connor crumples into himself, sobbing as if a dam broke away.  Evan only hesitates a moment before his hands find their way to his distressed friend, one threading through his hair and rubbing at his scalp while the other strokes along his spine, much the way his mom would do in those days after his dad escaped him.  

 

Left him.  His dad left him.  It hadn’t been Evan’s fault.  He needs to remember this fact.  It turns out psych majors can sometimes actually provide helpful advice, at least when compared to Doctor Sherman.

 

The cries turn to whining whimpers as Connor unfolds enough to almost crawl into Evan’s lap and once he’s settled, Evan resumes his soothing motions.  “You’re overwhelmed being back around people and everything that entails. I understand.” Connor looks up at him with such an expression of sorrow and despair Evan almost cries.  “I get it. I do. Just…”

 

“I’ve been taking it out on you.”  Connor whispers haltingly, breath catching nearly every word and Evan can hear the panic rising in his voice.  “Sorry sorry sorry, I’m so sorry please I’m sorry!” Evan knows why he’s so frantic and he will _never be like his family_.

 

He doesn’t even pause.  He just presses his lips to Connor’s hair in a long, chaste kiss that is literally just a mouth against his skull, but Connor seems to soak in the reassurance Evan is trying to pass through it.  “And I forgive you, Connor.”

 

He sobs louder, wet and choking, and Evan hums a random little tune as Connor presses against his chest, hands clutching at his shirt sleeves.  He’s going to need to change his shirt later, but he’d rather be a human handkerchief than ever allow Connor to suffer alone. He knows Connor’s biggest fear is being alone and he’ll be damned if he contributes to that in any way, shape, or form.  

 

When Connor’s cries are mere sniffles, he sits back to search for the tissue box and refuses to meet Evan’s eyes.  “I swear to god, Hansen, if you say anything to _anyone,_ I will end you.”  Evan can hear the insecurity, the fear, and his instinct is to soothe it so he goes for humor.

 

He reaches a finger out and taps his elbow.  “Hey, Connor, you’ll never guess what I saw you doing.”  

 

Connor rolls his eyes and shoves at his shoulder.  He stands from their now awkward position on the bed and stretches a bit, the red around his eyes and the tip of his nose the only signs of his previous distress.  “Shut up, Evan.” He mutters and snatches his boxers off the bed.

 

Evan snickers.  “Seriously though?  You’re the only one I’d tell and it's about you, so you don’t need to worry about me spreading rumors about you.”  He pauses and continues slowly, watching Connor to see his reaction. “I care about you, Connor. I don’t like to see you in pain, or hurting, or sad, because I know how it feels and I hate feeling that way and when I see you feeling that way then I hate that you have to feel that way too.”

 

It takes a moment but Connor does turn around to look at him and Evan is a little floored at the raw emotion Connor’s eyes are currently giving away.  Connor cares about him too, even if he never verbalizes it. He knows this, but right now he can see every single bit of it inside Connor’s gaze and he smiles brightly at the warmth that suddenly blooms in his chest.  “Where are we going?” Connor asks roughly and Evan shakes his head just a bit to clear his mind.

 

“Huh?”  Oh yes that was eloquent, good job there Evan.  His fingers move along his cast in a wavy sort of pattern.   _Thump-thump-taptaptaptap._

 

Connor’s mouth twitches.  “After I shower. I assume you want to go somewhere.”

 

Evan nods emphatically, fingers stilling in favor of reaching out to touch Connor’s knee.  He’s standing too far to reach so he drops his hand. “I need nature you need nature so we’re going to Rocky Mountain National Park.”

 

The thin mouth twitches into a little half smile that warms Connor’s eyes just a bit more.  “Alright, fine. I’ll shower.”

 

Evan’s eyes follow Connor as he leaves the room.  It is far past time they visit the mountains. They’ve already been here for 6 days and haven’t made the trip to Rocky Mountain National Park or Estes Park, instead branching out to places like art museums, local dog parks to play with some dogs (and apparently receive dog walking jobs that they immediately accept because their money is dwindling and they need jobs and they didn’t even have to try for these ones), and Celestial Seasonings for the tour and free tea.  They’ve actually done the tour twice, actually, because Connor had seemed really relaxed with the tea sampling area and the peppermint room and Evan will do anything to help Connor feel relaxed, but it hasn’t been enough to combat everything.

 

In fact, he’s going to leave a note that if they aren’t here for dinner or tomorrow morning, then they’ve decided to camp a couple of nights in the park if somewhere is available and leaves their SIM carded phone number with it. Unless of course either Ryan or Jamie are still there.  He supposes he could just speak to one of them instead of leaving a note and he heads upstairs to see if anyone is around.

### Connor

“What do you mean it closed _yesterday_?  The website says Trail Ridge Road closes tomorrow!  And it’s already 50 today!” Connor he knows he’s pouting but he doesn’t care.  He also knows Evan is laughing at him and he wants to be mad but he can't. Not about this.  Especially when he wants to laugh at himself, too. He already feels better after the drive up to Estes and he can’t wait to see what the park itself is like.  Maybe they’ll come camp for a few nights.

 

“The pass had a huge snowstorm overnight, sir. Most years the road ends up closing early.”  The ranger is explaining but Connor is beyond caring and huffs at the man as he hands them their map and park pamphlet.  “Have a nice day.”

 

“I just want to go up as high as I can.”  Connor argues after they drive through the toll booth and they are making their way into the park through the Beaver Meadows park entrance.  “I want to climb one of those famed Colorado Fourteeners!”

 

“You?  Want to climb a mountain?”

 

He mumbles something about driving up a very specific mountain but he knows he’s not enunciating enough to be understood.  He had overheard their roommates talking about the mountains they had climbed already and those they wanted to get to before the end of the school year and one name in particular had stood out to him.

 

Evan frowns and cocks his head at him in with his brows furrowed. “What was that?”

 

“I said, you can drive most of the way up Mt. Evans and that’s the mountain I want to climb.”

 

Evan is silent for only a scant second and then doesn’t stop laughing for five minutes.

 

Connor doesn’t know if the amusement is due to the name of the mountain or the fact that they’re not actually mountain climbing but rather would be mountain _driving_ but Evan’s laugh could power the sun, so he doesn’t do anything to stop him.

 

At least, not for the first minute or so.  And then it starts to become grating. “Evan, what is so funny?”

 

“You mean besides the name of the mountain?” He's still giggling, but not out right laughing in his face now.  “Connor, the road up Mt. Evans closes in September.”

 

“What.”  Of course the road is closed.  That’s Connor Murphy’s luck.

 

“Because of the snow.”

 

“What.”  Goddamned weather.

 

“Because the mountain is over fourteen thousand feet high and they can’t possibly plow that much snow during snow season.”

 

“What.”  Goddamned seasons.  “I thought it would be fun to drive up your mountain damn it.  And now you’re saying that road is closed, too? Is any road open in the mountains right now?”  He knows he’s being unreasonable, but he can’t help the rant. He’s so frustrated with finding out the things he wants to do are unavailable because of something as silly as _snow_.

 

But Evan…

 

Wonderful, sweet, _amazing_ Evan knows just what to say.  “We’ll just have to go when we come next fall for the aspen colors.”

 

He can feel his mouth twist into a wide, probably sickeningly beaming smile that Evan easily returns and he’s suddenly very happy he’s out with Evan and not moping about the house biting everyone’s heads off.  “So what _is_ open in October?”

 

“Everything else?”  Evan shrugs as if to say that he has no clue either.  “I say we hike somewhere.”

 

“I vote a lake.”  He says immediately.  He wants to jump into a mountain lake and the only way to do that is to hike to one.

 

Evan immediately consults the pamphlet with the map given to them by the park ranger.  “Well, Bear Lake is listed as a popular location. We can try there?”

 

“Done.”  He looks to where Evan is pointing on the map and orients himself, hoping they won’t get lost along the way.  “Is it a trailhead?”

 

“Mhmm.”  Evan nods excitedly.  “There’s a short walk around Bear Lake we can do and find a place for you to paint if you want.”

 

“Shit.”  He swerves a quick left turn when he realizes Bear Lake Road is the very first turn after entering the park.  He winces when he hears Evan slap a hand on the window to maintain balance. “Sorry.”

 

“It’s fine.”  Evan’s tone says it isn’t but that he’s already getting over it so Connor doesn’t tack on more apologies.  He’ll just drive a bit more carefully from now on.

 

“Is the walk around the lake hard?”  He’s not really in the mood for something difficult or complicated or tiring.

 

“Just a mile.  And it’s pretty flat.”

 

“Awesome.”  That didn’t sound unbearable.  That sounds really nice, actually.  He likes walks over hikes, though he’ll hike nearly anything to make Evan happy, because with walks he usually finds somewhere he can sit and paint and lose himself in it.

 

There is still some color in the trees, but not enough he knows for Evan’s liking.  It reassures him that they will return to Colorado to climb, or he supposes _drive_ , up a fourteener just because he knows Evan will return to Colorado for the trees.

 

“ _Oh my god Connor pull over!_ ”  Evan shrieks next to him and, startled, he swerves to the side of the road and skids to a stop.

 

“What!?  What’s wrong?”  

 

“Huh?”  Evan says distractedly as he rifles through his bag.  “It’s…” He lets out a cry of triumph and pulls his camera out and Connor immediately scans the field to see it littered with dozens of elk.

 

“Oh, shit.”  They had seen some elk in Yellowstone but only in groups of 2 or 3.  And none of them had had any sort of impressive rack. They had seen a couple of young bucks with tiny fuzzy antlers but they all pale when compared to the beauty before them.

 

Near the center of the very spread out herd stands a large buck.  The antlers it bears are impressively large and all Connor wants to do is stand on its head and hold the spikes as it charges around the field.  “Evan, Evan I want to ride it.”

 

Evan huffs a laugh under his breath but doesn’t stop taking pictures.  It isn’t until Connor takes a step forward that Evan looks away from the elk and grabs at Connor’s jacket sleeve.  “No, no no no, you are not going to ride the elk, Connor.”

 

“I’ll bet it’s like riding a horse.”  Even though he’s joking, part of him really does want to ride the elk now.  He would look so majestic. He takes another step when the buck sudden looks straight at him and snorts loudly.  Evan is clicking away next to him as he mutters little exclamations of joy at the posing of the animal.

 

And then the elk charges.

 

Connor has never made such a sound before in his life and he hopes to never make it again.  He is in the jeep before he can even register that he’s running and Evan makes in in shortly after.  Chest heaving, he looks over to see the elk nearly where he had started from. “Stop laughing at me.”  He scowls at the animal and then at Evan when he snickers at him and jerks the car into gear and takes off down the road towards the lake.

 

But it’s later, much later after they’ve circled the lake and he’s painted two pictures (one of the lake with the mountains in the background, and one of Evan with his camera as he scrolls through the pictures of the day), that Evan captures his favorites of the day’s pictures:

 

It’s a series of three photographs.  The first one depicts Connor leaping off a log that extends into the icy mountain lake and Evan has caught him mid-jump, just as his feet are touching the water.  The next one has him mid-splash, the droplets of the water exploding around him perfectly, and the last one one of him jumping back out of the water as he throws his head back, dripping hair creating a shower of droplets and an expression of pain and cold and regret all over his face.  

 

The last one he loves because it reminds him of what happens shortly after the picture is taken, after a still guffawing Evan had safely put the camera back in the backpack.  Because once the camera is safe, Connor picks up the boy and drops him into the shallows and Evan shrieks as he holds his arm over his head in an effort to keep it dry.  His blond hair darkens with the cold lake water and Connor can’t help but admire the rivulets of water that drip over his face, even with the scolding and shouting.

 

God he wants to kiss him, but he’s waiting.  He can do it.  He can be patient.  Because first and foremost, before anything else, Evan his is best friend and that is the most important thing in the world to Connor.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 49  
> Oct 25  
> The Boys Do Denver. And Weed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Connor's whole section is weed usage. See end notes for summary if you don't wanna read it.

### Evan

Their first stop in Denver is an obscure little art museum Evan greatly regrets not insisting on waiting for a free admission day to visit.  It advertised a traveling collection of modern surrealism art gathered from various art institutions around the country and Connor had immediately pulled into the parking lot with an excited expression.  Evan learns that Connor does more than paint using watercolor, Connor loves art in general and Evan keeps trying to suss out if Connor is faking his happiness at the museum or if he is genuinely enjoying making his commentary and jokes.

 

Who is he kidding, of course Connor is enjoying the chance to rip apart and critique things and if they weren’t in public, Evan would be in a constant state of giggles.

 

The very first art exhibit they see is a collection of haphazardly placed toilets piled in a corner with toilets spreading out in a scatter pattern around.  Some were on their sides, some upright, others upside down and Evan glances at Connor to see his reaction. His face is surprisingly blank as they walk around and through the toilets bolted to the ground.  Connor lifts each lid he can and scowls at the sight of each one.

 

Curious, Evan peaks inside one and frowns.  It’s empty, as one would hope for a toilet in an art exhibit, so he wonders what Connor is upset about.

 

“You know, just one turd would have livened this one up a lot.”  He answers Evan’s silent question and he wants to laugh.

 

“It would be very gross.”  He disagrees and Connor nods as he takes Evan’s hand in his.

 

“Yeah, that too.”  His tone is light and his eyes are bright with amusement.  “But, even a plastic turd would be hilarious.”

 

Evan can’t help but laugh with him.

 

\--

 

“Someone needs to learn to pack lighter.”

 

Along the wall sits a row of very old, vintage style suitcases and above them hangs a sign that both of them immediately scoff at.   _Travel is God._

 

“What does that even _mean_?”  Evan breathes an annoyed sigh.

 

Connor laughs and presses his thumb against Evan’s palm gently.  “It means nothing. It’s just some pretentious art student trying to sound deep and mysterious.”

 

\--

 

“Okay, these just look like a smurf puked on some canvases.  And not in a good way.”

 

“ _Oh my god Connor, not so loud!”_  Evan hisses under his breath, clutching the hand holding his in a warning.

 

He wasn’t wrong, but Evan didn’t want to risk someone overhearing who might have helped with the installation piece.  He stood there trying to think of something positive to say about the blue paintings, but nothing came to mind. They truly did look like someone just threw up all over a few canvases and called it good.

 

“Imma call that one Smurfette.”

 

“ _Oh my god Con_...wait, that one does look like a smurf wearing a dress…”

 

“Exactly!”

 

\--

 

“Do you think this beam is a weight bearing one?”

 

Evan looks to where he’s motioning to a red painted I beam leans against the wall, nothing around it save a tiny plaque on the wall depicting the artist name and the art piece name.  “Why?”

 

“I’m going to climb it.”

 

“ _Connor, no_.”

 

\--

 

Connor strokes his chin thoughtfully, miming smoking a tobacco pipe as he announces, “this mentally challenged four year old really did their best attempt at realism.  You can see the basic shape of the apple here...”

 

“Connor, this one was painted by a 22 year old art student for his final art show.”  Evan interrupts as he reads from the art sign.

 

“If this one was the best, I’d hate to see the rest of them.”

 

\--

 

“Okay, these stupid sculptures look like a drunk eight year old did their best.”

 

“They are unique, that’s for sure.”  He thinks that one is supposed to be a person.   Maybe. If one tilts their head in just the right way.  Even looking at the exhibit from various angles didn’t reveal any particular reason for the rather turd like quality to their design.

 

“Evan Hansen, was that a not completely nice thing you just said?”

 

“I said they were _unique_ , that isn’t a bad thing!”

 

“We both know what you meant, Ev.”

 

\--

 

“What...what is _this_?”

 

The ‘this’ Evan is referring to is playing out on a scratchy, tiny black and white tv screen.  The ‘this’ he and Connor are currently staring at is something not even his screwed up mind can comprehend.  On the floor is littered crumpled up newspaper and crochet banana peels. Draped over a chair is a gross looking gorilla costume that hangs limp and creepy.  

 

In the middle of it all sits the black and white tv.  It’s not even on a table. It sits directly on the floor, angled in such a way you can see it from any point along the exhibit barrier.  On the screen, in grainy black and white, plays the oddest little video Evan has ever seen in his life. It’s a person wearing the very disgusting gorilla suit leaping about slowly, tossing the wads of paper about carelessly.  It plays on an endless loop and Evan can’t break his gaze away.

 

“It’s like a trainwreck.”

 

Evan bites his lip so hard he almost can taste blood.  He thinks it’s probably rude to laugh out loud in a museum, but Connor is absolutely correct.  The entire display is so weirdly horrific it’s actually beautiful in its own way.

 

It’s certainly fascinating, anyway.  “It’s the best thing I’ve seen in this entire art gallery.” Evan admits lowly, desperately hoping he's not being overheard by the staff or, good forbid, the artist themselves.

 

“Yeah, let’s bounce.”  Connor grumbles and abruptly turns and strides out of the room without looking back and Evan is forced to nearly run to catch up.  

 

“Sorry.”  He says in a hoarse whisper, still afraid to talk loudly until they leave the building.  “I’m sorry. I tried to enjoy myself, I really did.”

 

Connor laughs, the happiest one of the day Evan notes absently, and pats his shoulder with a heavy hand.  “That place was shit and I had the best time. And now, we’re off for your chosen activity, so a better quality art museum will have to wait for later.”

 

Evan’s chest feels warm and a wide smile stretch his mouth.  Connor isn’t upset that the art they saw was shitty at best and they’re going to be going to the Denver Botanical Gardens.  He hopes they’re just as beautiful in the fall as he hopes.

### Connor

Five carved pumpkins line the front porch.  Evan’s, of course, has a fucking tree carved into the middle of it.  He calls it the Tree of Life, Connor calls it complicated. He had carved a classic face only he had also added angry eyebrows to the mix to make it ‘more authentic to the artist’.  The three college boys each chose a letter for the acronym for the school and when the whole line is put out together, it actually looks pretty decent sitting all lit up on the porch.

 

The gardens had had a pumpkin patch of sorts, and of course Evan had insisted on purchasing some so not only they were carving pumpkins, but so Ryan, Jamie, and Carson could carve, too.  Connor had been so sure that the three young adults would immediately shun the idea but they had been even more enthusiastic than Evan, so at least that worry was for naught.

 

Five boys line the back porch, all ready for the final activity of the evening.  Ryan is next to Connor, who of course is next to Evan. Jamie has claimed the seat next to Evan and Carson settles down next to Jamie with what Connor thinks looks like a hamster play tunnel set.  Which, it is, but when Carson loads up a bowl and demonstrates how to use the strange apparatus, Connor realizes it’s just a super fancy bong the other boy has made.

 

“I have filters every other bend.”  He’s explaining while Connor tries to pay attention to where the weed goes and where the mouth goes on the tangled mess of plastic.  The short explanation turns into a monologue telling everyone about the other pipes and shit he’s made out of fruit, foam balls, and even one made out of twisted and bent metal straws.

 

“Dude, do you have any normal looking bongs?”  He gestures to his own and Carson just snickers.

 

“Fuck that, man.”  He laughs through his coughing up a lung of smoke.  “Why spend hundreds of dollars on something that’ll break eventually when I can create shit for free?”

 

Connor decides that Carson Beck is literally MacGyver.  Who the fuck looks at a hamster cage and thinks, ‘yeah, I wanna smoke out of that thing?’

 

“Con, my bro, do not use that horrible frankenstein.”  Ryan slaps at Connors hands away from the homemade bong.  “I have a nail and torch. Dabbing’s the way to go man.”

 

He arches a brow at the southern boy and flicks his gaze down to look at the tiny little cube like crystals of yellow resin.  He’s always wanted to try dabbing but couldn’t justify the price of all the equipment, especially not in New York. “Should I?”  He whispers to Evan who nods quickly.

 

“If you want.  I think I want to, too.”

 

Ryan beams at them both and immediately starts scraping up the little crystals onto the dab scraper.  He looks like a chemist scraping away at the dabbing wax and fiddling with the dab apparatus attached to the bong and entirely too eager to share with them.  “This is gonna knock your _socks_ off.”

 

“You are literally telling them falsehoods.”  Jamie interjects, joint already smoldering between his fingers.  “It cannot do that.”

 

“God, you turn into such a pedantic ass when you smoke.”  The eyeroll Ryan performs is impressively dramatic, and Connor is the king of dramatics so he should know.

 

“Excuse you I am _always_ pedantic.”

 

“More like you’re always an ass.”

 

“Boys, you’re both pretty shut up.”

 

“ _You_ shut up, Carson!”  They turn and shout at the other boy who nearly collapses off the deck in hysterics.  

 

“Every.  Single. Time.”  He manages through laughs and Connor tunes him out.

 

He sounds like a hyena.

 

Jamie immediately takes over for Ryan in explaining the process.  “So you heat the nail here up with the torch until it turns red. Touch the wax to the nail and breath in.”  He hands the dab to Evan who immediately passes it over to Connor who snorts at him in amusement.

 

“Ev, it’s no different than a bong.”

 

“I know.”  He replies easily.  His face is light and open, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth and he looks absolutely ethereal to Connor in that moment with the haze of the weed smoke and moonlight illuminating him.  “I want to watch you do it first.”

 

Connor eyes him suspiciously but nothing in Evan’s gaze is steady and even which tells Connor that he means anything exactly what he says.  Wordlessly, he clicks the torch on and keeps the blue flame lightly roaring on the metal until it glows red. He sets the lighter down and immediately presses the crystal wax to the edge of the metal bowl and sucks in slowly.  The wax sizzles as it burns on the nail and Connor can feel the beads of sweat already beginning to form even before he exhales a large white plum.

 

He presses a hand to his chest and tries to breathe deeply to kill the burn but it doesn’t work.  His eyes are watering and he desperately wants to cough but he knows that right now it won’t help, that it’ll only take that burning pain and push it deeper but then he can’t help it and goddamn it that hurts so good.  “Am I supposed to be sweating?” He asks as he wipes at his eyes. He feels like he’s running a fever and he hasn’t moved an inch since they started.

 

Another hyena cackle comes from Ryan.  “The dab sweats are a thing, buddy. It’ll pass.”

 

Connor looks up when he feels something rough brush at his hand and sees Evan reaching out with his casted hand for the bong.  “Could you do the wax for me since I can’t do both?”

 

Connor’s already feeling his high and he grins sloppily at his best friend and crush and...better cut that line of thought off before he falls down that rabbit hole.  “Or. Or, I could hold it.”

 

“The bong?”  

 

He nods enthusiastically and makes a sort of grabby hands motion towards the bong.  “Wouldn’t want to deprive you of the full experience, Hansen.” 

 

Evan hands it over with a soft smile that makes his eyes almost unfocused and he wonders what Evan thinks about when he looks at Connor like that.  “How much should I do, Ryan?”

 

Ryan sits up with a manic grin that shows all his teeth and gestures for the little glass jar that holds the wax.  “Here, I’ll load ‘er up fer yah.” His drawl has thickened almost to illegible and Connor is hit by a fit of giggles when Jamie drops his joint and lunges for Evan, twisting so he’s being held away from Ryan’s grabbing hands.  Evan is giggling and red faced by this point, and Connor is glad to see he’s amused and not afraid or anxious.

 

“Hell no.  You keep your hands away from him.  I will not allow you to render him catatonic.”

 

“Man, you are way too not high enough if you can say the word cat-a-something.”  Ryan shoves at the hand holding the joint as if trying to encourage him to use it.

 

Jamie ignores his roommate and puts himself between Evan and Ryan, which incidentally puts him between Evan and Connor as well.   Connor feels a flash of red and he winces. _Shit.  Stop. He doesn’t mean anything like that._  Now if he can just hold onto that thought, he’ll be okay.   _Jamie isn’t getting in between you and Evan.  Breathe._

 

It’s almost working.  Jamie is the one who taught him how to breathe in a calming way.  Sure, it didn’t take away the anger, but it did help take the edge off so he could at least attempt to hold onto reality.  

 

“Just take one crystal for now.”  Jamie is saying to Evan and it’s taking all of Connor’s self control to not deck the older boy in the jaw.  “If you feel okay after about ten minutes, you can do more.” The tone of voice is really what cuts Connor’s anger off at the knees.  It’s the same tone his dad used to have, back before Connor became a problem, back when he cared about Connor and his hurts and ills.

 

Jamie cares about Evan, yes, but he also cares about Connor.  He’s told them of the little sister who died from leukemia when he was 10.  They were what were sometimes called Irish twins and had been inseparable up until he was no longer allowed at her bedside.  He thinks about the stories Jamie has told them about the games they invented in the hospital, when she was still well enough for visits, about the vacations their families had gone on before she had to be hospitalized.

 

He also had admitted just how far into depression he had fallen after she died.

 

Yes, Jamie cares about them both just as he cared about his sister Joni, and he’s showing it right now to Evan in making sure he doesn’t have a bad first time with a new apparatus.  He’s the dad he’s always wanted, even if he is only three years older than them, and he decides it’s a good idea to tell Jamie this.

 

“Just don’t call me Daddy.”  Jamie says wryly, and Evan chokes on his breath before he’s even able to bring the bong to his lips.

 

He can feel his annoyance rising again and tries so hard to keep his eyes from narrowing in defiance.  It’s so difficult to remember that these people are his friends and are not going to just turn around and hurt him in some horrible way.  He trusts these people, at least as much as he trusts anyone, and he definitely completely trusts Evan so he really just needs to keep a rein on himself so he doesn’t lose these wonderful people who think of him as a friend.

 

Him.  Connor Good-For-Nothing Murphy.  With _friends_.

 

Oh, if Larry or Cynthia or Zoe could see him now.  

 

They had always bitched and complained how he would never have friends because of his stoner habits but look at him now!  He has friends! _Take that, idiots._

 

“Are you sure you don’t wanna try my hamster bong?”  Carson wiggles the plastic apparatus enticingly and Connor snorts and gestures to his own bong.  

 

“I prefer glass.”  His words are now very slow like honey or molasses and he feels really, _really_ good right at this moment.  He looks over to see that Jamie is settling back into his spot between Evan and Carson and one hand presses the wax to the metal while the his hand finds its way over to Evan’s and their fingers slide together as Evan takes in his draw.

 

He handles it far more gracefully than Connor, choosing to take his in two breaths rather than one.  When Evan’s eyes blink open to see Connor right there in his face, instead of jumping back, Connor watches as a pleased little smile plays at his lips.  “I liked that.” He whispers and Connor suddenly has to hold back the urge to kiss his best friend.

 

“Hey, losers, pass the nail this way.”  Carson hollers and both boys jump.

 

“Hang on!”  Connor snaps and he looks at Evan carefully.  “More?”

 

Evan shakes his head.  “After he’s had his.”

 

The nail and the joint are passed around and time blends into a mass of tangled memories that will be difficult to unravel later.  Carson is the first to leave, having stopped smoking a lot earlier than the others so he could drive home. Jamie drags Ryan up and into the house, biding the two teens a good evening and if they could lock things up before going downstairs, that would be lovely.

 

Soon the two are sitting in near complete darkness.  They had both taken sizable hits off the nail before Ryan was whisked away and if Evan feels anything close to what Connor is, he’s going to be very spaced out.

 

“Connor?”  Evan whispers, his voice a little trembly.  The nervous quality of it has him immediately on edge.

 

“Yeah, Ev?”

 

“I want to say something.  But I’m afraid that even if I say it now, I’ll not be able to say it when I’m sober and I don’t want that.”

 

He’s hit with sudden clarity because why else would Evan be so nervous right now?  Why else would he look at Connor like he hung the goddamned sun and moon  _and_ stars?  Evan likes him. Evan likes him probably as much as Connor likes Evan and his heart is singing with the song of a thousand angels.  He doesn’t care how long it takes for Evan to actually admit it out loud, he’ll wait centuries if need be.  

 

But Evan is frowning and scuffing his shoe in the dirt and Connor leans forward and presses a quick kiss to the crown of Evan’s head.

 

“It's fine, Ev.  It’s okay to be what we are.”

 

“And what is that, Connor?”

 

“We are best friends who hold hands and cuddle and know that someday, when we’re both ready, we will be more and that's enough.”

 

Evan’s grin is lazy and uneven and his hand pulls Connor's up into his lap to play with his fingers.  “Did Jamie talk to you, too?”

 

Connor flushes immediately, both from the motion and the mild accusation.  “No.” An eyebrow arches and he flushes deeper.  “Fine, yes. I might have been...”

 

“Pining.  He has been pining.”  Jamie’s voice calls from the upstairs window and now Evan joins Connor in turning beet red.

 

“I’m sorry.”  He whispers, just as aware as Connor is of being overheard.

 

He shakes his head.  “Nope, not allowed to be for this.  We talked, we’re good. You just tell me when you’re ready, okay?”

 

There’s a long moment where no one says a thing, where the only sounds are the wind through the nearly empty branches of the trees and their uneven breaths.  Finally, Evan sighs and squeezes his hand lightly.  “Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, I feel the need to remind you all that many of the things Evan and Connor see and do come from real life events that I have lived through. For instance, the art museum is one of my now-husband's and my first dates, only instead of Denver it was at the Walker in Minneapolis.
> 
> Yes, they were all real exhibits and most of the comments Connor makes are the ones my husband made. I even asked him about what he remembers about the museum and he sat and wrote a fucking list, it was amazing.
> 
> \---Summary---
> 
> -Funny comments at the art museum  
> -They carved pumpkins - no detail, really  
> -They smoke weed and talk  
> -Jamie had a little sister who died when he was ten, it's why he wants to take care of Evan and Connor.  
> -Evan admits he likes Connor without actually saying it because he doesn't want to say it unless he can say it sober. If you want to read that section, it's the last bit from when it says "Soon the two are sitting in near complete darkness."


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 54  
> Oct 30
> 
> It is inevitable, Connor knows this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted chapter 16 last night, just in case you missed it. So read that one first.

###  Connor

 

It is inevitable, Connor knows this.  He just wishes it could have happened when they were alone and not in a house with two other people.  This was more than snippiness, this was a full on episode.

 

The sad thing is, he can't even remember what triggered it all.  He isn’t aware of much that happens while in the throws of the ‘during’.  He’s currently only aware of two things, the ever crushing feeling of hopelessness and the most horrific of sights to him - Evan standing with his back to the wall, tears streaming down his face.

 

He's only vaguely aware of the lack of fear he sees in Evan’s eyes, but the very fact that he is  _ crying _ is enough to begin to tether him back to reality and as soon as it starts everything crashes around him and he's hit with the magnitude of what he's just done.

 

All his effort in Yellowstone spent teaching himself how to keep calm were for naught.  He’s been trying so hard, shoving his anger and his frustrations away where he can’t feel them, hoping they would just disappear like normal people seem to be able to do.  But that isn’t what happens, and he really should know better by now. Especially because…

 

“Connor?  Evan?”

 

Jamie.

 

Jamie has  _ told _ him to talk to Evan.  Jamie keeps telling him that Evan cares about him, that it practically oozes out of every pore, and that if he tells Evan what he’s dealing with, he’ll have support.  Connor however has been convinced he will lose Evan should he do such a thing, and so has kept his mouth shut and hidden it all away.

 

And look where that has gotten him.  His best friend, the one person who has stood by him - he doesn’t care if it’s been just under two full months since they met, Evan has done more for him than anyone else in his life - he’s going to lose him because he  _ can’t control himself _ .

 

“Are you guys okay?”

 

Jamie sounds like he’s fighting tears, like he’s scared  _ for _ them and not of him.  “No. Not right now.” Evan calls up.  “But I think we will be.”

 

Connor barely hears Jamie’s affirming reply and receding footsteps because Evan pushes off of the wall and drags Connor to the bed and sits him down before settling in and practically dragging him into a hug.

 

It comes crashing back.

 

They had been talking again about their families, the shitty shit they had gone through because of them, and in the middle of Evan’s rant about how busy his mom is and how neglected he feels sometimes, he admits that misses her despite it all, that he kind of regrets just leaving her like that because even with sending a letter he’s no better than Mark, and Connor had snapped.  Everything had been piling up and that simple admission had seemed like Evan was going to abandon Connor and he had simply reacted.

 

“You can’t do that to me, Connor.”  Evan says softly, stroking at his hair.  Connor whimpers and leans into the touch,  If Evan is touching him, Evan doesn’t hate him.  Even if Evan is scolding him, he’s still caressing him, touching him, holding him, and he can bear the reprimands if he is loved through it all.  “It isn’t fair to take out your feelings on me when I’m not the cause, or...I guess at least not the  _ only _ cause, I suppose I was at least a little bit of a catalyst today but I know I’m not responsible for all of it.  And...and even if you are angry because of what I said, you don’t need to scream at me like that.”

 

The words are almost mirror of what his parents like to say to him, only instead of yelling it at him through a locked door, Evan is comforting him and helping him come back to himself.  “I don’t  _ want _ to hurt you.”  He feels like a broken record, but it needs to be said.  “I don’t mean to.”

 

“I know.  Which is why we need to communicate.”  Evan whispers as he works out a knot in Connor’s hair.  “Jamie says that truthful communication is the number one reason a relationship fails, whether it’s friendship, family, or romantic.  Which means you need to tell me when you’re starting to spiral, Connor.”

 

He does.  He knows he does, he just never wanted Evan to know just how bad off he is.  He didn’t want Evan to see the worst sides of him and decide to flee. He had taken the choice away from Evan and that is super shitty behavior.  “I’m sorry.” His return whisper is guttural and gravely. “I...I’m always angry, Evan.”

 

Evan is silent though he doesn’t pull away from Connor, so maybe his little honest admission isn’t going to be a deal breaker.  “Okay, Bruce. So we talk to Jamie about it and see if he has any advice for us.” 

 

It takes Connor a moment and when he recognizes the reference he huffs a little laugh and Evan grins down at him.  His amusement dies rather quickly as his mind starts to replay some of the lines he had screamed at Evan. “I’m a monster.”  He chokes out, curling into himself when his stomach cramps suddenly and he is taken back to the pain of his first failed overdose sophomore year and the sobs come quickly and without warning.

 

“You’re not a monster Connor.”

 

“No, no Zoe’s right I’m a monster why would I say that to you?”  He had actually told Evan to jump out of another tree. He had screamed at the boy he thinks he might love that he should climb higher and jump further all because he was  _ angry _ at a misunderstood verbalized sentiment.

 

“I know about the forest, Connor.”

 

All movement halts as the blood freezes in Connor’s veins.  All the hiding, all the secrets, they were all for nothing? Evan… “why didn’t you tell me you knew?”  And why does he feel like he’s not sure if he should feel betrayed or touched?

 

“Well, it seemed like something you didn’t want me to know yet, so I didn’t want to pry.  I know how you feel about your secrets being forced out of you, so I wanted to wait for you to tell me.  I wanted you to feel like…” His voice trails off, but it’s all written across Evan’s face.

 

“I trust you.”  He blurts and immediately reddens.  “I mean, despite what today looked like, you are the one person I trust more than anything.”  Roughing it for a month will definitely bring two people closer together and living in what is essentially an apartment for another month, well, Connor can’t imagine enjoying living a different human being, that’s for certain.

 

And it hasn’t even hit the third month of their trip.

 

“But!”  Evan’s voice startles him and he jumps a little, his elbow catching Evan’s gut and he lets out a pained ‘oof’.  “Sorry! Didn’t mean to scare...anyway. You’re not a monster. That, that is my point. A monster wouldn’t work so hard to keep his outbursts to when he can release it without hurting me.”

 

“But I did hurt you.”  Connor can still hear his words echoing in his brain and he wants to delete them forever.  He’s horrible but Evan is forgiving him? He can’t quite fathom what is happening here.

 

Evan looks down at his cast and traces the fading letters that make up Connors name and he gives Connor a tiny little smile.  “Well, yeah. You’re human. And I know some of my actions and words have hurt you, even if you don’t admit it verbally to me.  My anxiety would like to say everything I do hurts you, but I know that’s not true. I think it’s not true. I hope...”

 

“Of course it isn’t true.”  Connor interrupts. “Evan, even when you accidentally hurt my feelings, I know you didn’t mean to.  Even if it’s not until much later when I can be rational again.”

 

Evan sighs and rubs his hands on his khakis.  There are holes where there didn’t use to be some and Connor frowns at little at the sight.  Evan needs new clothes. “Connor, when I was...” He frowns and starts over. “Have I mentioned I did eighth grade twice?”

 

Connor nods.

 

“About two months into the school year…”  Evan’s voice trails off and Connor realizes he’s about to hear about Evan’s first attempt.  He had known it had happened, they just hadn’t had the conversation about the details. He takes the fingers that are resting against Evan’s hip and strokes lightly, trying to comfort and encourage the other boy.

 

It works.  He starts to talk about the first suicide attempt that landed him in the hospital, though no one is really sure if it was an attempt or self harm that went awry during an anxiety episode where he blanked out part way through and woke up in the hospital.  No one really knows what happened because Evan’s only memories of the day are him walking out of English class after being given not only a group project that will be presented at the elementary school assembly and Jared’s stupid face staring at him in the hospital.  That’s it. The rest he was either asleep, it wasn’t important enough to remember, or he was in the throes of his blackout anxiety attack.

 

As he couldn’t prove it  _ wasn’t _ an attempt on his life, and the fact that the trigger for the episode was school itself, his therapist recommended he be institutionalized for the remainder of the year and undergo intense therapy for his anxiety.  He desperately hadn’t wanted it, but his mom had rejoiced and immediately signed him up to rid herself of the burden that is Evan Hansen.

 

Well, at least that’s how Evan describes it feeling to him.  “Now I wonder if it was less rejoicing over getting rid of her anxiety ridden son, or just that she worried so much about me she was willing to do anything to help me, even if it meant sending me away for a bit.”

 

Apparently, Jamie and Ryan’s mothering of them hadn’t gone unnoticed by Evan, either.

 

And while he’ll never admit it, he misses his family, too.  “If you want to go home, I guess we can leave whene…”

 

“I don’t want to stop the trip.”

 

Connor closes his mouth and eyes Evan with confusion.  “But, you said…”

 

“I said I missed my mom.  I said I regret leaving her like my dad did.  I never said I wanted to leave you or the trip.”

 

He’s floored.  Evan’s right. He really only said he missed her, not that he wanted to go back.  “But you want…”

 

There’s a strange little fire in Evan’s gaze that burns Connor to his very core.  “Yes, eventually I’d like to go back and see her. But I’m staying with  _ you _ , Connor.”

 

He can’t stop himself from talking, he can’t stop the admission from leaving his lips.  “I miss Zoe.”

 

Evan doesn’t say anything except… “tell me about her?”

 

And so he does.  “She’s hilarious.  Even when I would be pissed off at my mom or dad, she’d manage to get me to smile.”

 

“Monumental task.”

 

“Shut up.”  But he’s smiling and so is Evan and he continues when he’s shot an expectant look.  “She looks like me when she sits at her desk with her headphones on.”

 

“Have your parents ever yelled at her when they thought it was you?”  There’s Evan asking the important questions.

 

Connor smooths out a bump in his jeans and sniggers under his breath.  “Yeah. I don’t know why they thought I’d be sitting at the kitchen table, but they see her from the back and just start laying into her like she was me about where I had been the night before.  It takes a minute before she realizes they’re there and when she turns around and removes her noise canceling headphones, oh man.” He had been sitting on the stairs watching the entire thing unfold like a daytime drama. “Hilarious.”

 

Evan’s laughing now and he’s glad.  It’s one of the few positive memories he feels like he has of his high school years.  “What else?”

 

Fine, he’ll give Evan more.  “She’s stubborn. To a fault, really, but at least I know she won’t allow herself to be hurt.”  Because it’s like a balm on his soul, listing all the ways Zoe is his hero, is the little sister he was once best friends with, is someone he wishes desperately to reconnect with in some way.  

 

“Maybe when we go back to see my mom, we can visit with Zoe.”  Evan suggests, and before Connor can protest what a terrible idea it is, he tacks on, “only her.  I would never insist you see Cynthia or Larry.”

 

He’ll think about it, he supposes.  “Did you want to…” Should they? “Call your mom?”  He’s almost afraid of the answer.

 

Evan shakes his head, no.  “I’ll email her if you’re okay with it.  I don’t want a call to be traced or something, and if Jared finds out she’s talking to me....”

 

Bleh, Kleinman.  He hates how computer savvy the other boy seems to be.  

 

“Just once a month.”  Evan is saying and he likes the plan the other boy is laying out.  “We can give her a little play by play of how we are without any details.”  His voice drops and his eyes unfocus a bit as he stares at the dresser in thought.  “I’m not my father. I’m better than he is.”

 

“Anyone is.” Evan rubs at his back when he lets out a loud yawn that rattles the bed.

 

“Except maybe Trump.”  Evan mutters. “He’s a little worse.  Now take a nap you idiot.”

 

Connor snickers and snuggles further into Evan’s side and allows the soothing hand to lull him into a healing sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All Connor for this chapter. Next one is all Evan and it's a time hop and I like it a lot. Cast comes off and the boys go shopping.


	18. Freedom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 65  
> Nov 10
> 
>  
> 
> Evan sheds off more than the cast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love all of you. Your reviews give me life, ideas, and just all around good feelings. <3

###  Evan

“Haha!  I’m free!”  Evan waves both of his now not casted hands out of the open roof of the Jeep and is ignoring Connor laughing at him.  He is all sunshine and joy right now, and Evan is soaking it up to store for later when the darkness comes again and Connor’s paranoia takes over his rationality again.  Evan knows that Connor is trying, he sees it daily, and that is enough for him, but it is also tiring. 

 

Still, he would rather have Connor this way then him still feeling like he needs to hide himself from Evan. 

 

“I will not start this car until you have all hands and feet inside.”  Connor scolds mockingly. “I’d rather not have to get another cast for you after we just had the one removed.”  For all the lightness in the tone, Evan can hear the slight worry and decides to humor him.

 

The cast in question sits in Evan’s seat, smelly and gross, but he had insisted on keeping it.  At Connor’s admonishing, he gently places the cast in one of the open boxes in the back before sitting and clicking his seatbelt into place.  He wiggles around his fingers and rotates his arm and wrinkles his nose a bit when the skin still feels odd. It’s almost like it is simultaneously too loose and too tight at the same time and he doesn’t like feeling so at war with his own body.  It’s almost like, well if Evan had to compare it to something it would be a snake shedding its skin, only just his arm.

 

The restless sort of itch kind of migrates and Evan feels a bit like he’s buzzing with energy and it’s different than his anxiety.  More...exciting. "I feel like I’m...shedding my old self. Like, you know, slowly.” He says as they pull of the parking lot of the clinic they had found.  “Bit by bit.”

 

“All because of the cast?”

 

“More like, the cast helped me realize what’s already been happening?”

 

Evan likes the quirky little half smirk Connor gives him.   It’s always the first smile to emerge when he’s amused or happy, as if he’s not sure he’s allowed genuine laughter, but Evan loves it all the same.  It makes him look playful and mischievous, and it makes Evan want to smother him with affection.

 

He’s not sure what is holding him back.  Connor likes him. He likes Connor. He likes the cuddles and the comfort and the hand holding and the assurances that they’ll always have each other’s backs.  He thinks he’ll like kissing, and even...oh the possibilities are practically endless if he ever gathers the courage to go for it, but something - he doesn’t know what - is keeping him from bridging that final gap between them.  

 

It probably has something to do with the fact that while they’ve gone to school together for years, they really have only known each other for 65 days and is that really enough time to get to know someone?  

 

Not that he’s still counting or anything.

 

He should probably return to the conversation at hand.  “No, but it’s part of it.” He picks at the fraying holes in his pants and frowns at them.  He’s never had clothing that had holes in them. Even if money was tight, his mom always made sure he had nice clothes to wear, even if cheap or second hand.  “I need new clothes.”

 

“Tis a good thing that was already in my plans.”  

 

And now Evan is afraid because Evan had only thought of this on the spot.  He’s only a little afraid, but he’s not sure he wants to see what Connor has in mind for his wardrobe.  “I’m not sure I’ll look good as an emo, Connor.”

 

“Shut the hell up, Ev.”  Connor says cheerfully as he turns onto an even busier road.  “I happen to realize this and know exactly what you need.”

 

Which tells Evan next to no information except that he knows Connor won’t allow him back into his shapeless khakis and loose polos and he resigns himself to becoming a clothing mannequin for the next couple of hours.  “Where are we going?”

 

“Back to Pearl Street.  There’s a store that just screams  _ Evan Tree Lover Hansen _ .”  Sure enough, Evan can vaguely recognize some of the buildings they are passing and when Connor pulls into a parking garage, he realizes it’s the same one they had used the previous visit.

 

Evan chooses not to respond verbally.  He is quiet as Connor parks and pays. He’s quiet as they walk side by side onto the sidewalk and down towards the outdoor mall.  He only speaks again when he sees the shop Connor is stopping at. “Connor we can’t afford this store.”

 

“Evan, the lady down the street gave us two hundred dollars for watching her dog for an hour and then asked how many more days we were available for.  We can afford a couple of buy one get one free sweaters.”

 

He would bring that up and he knows Connor well enough by now to know that trying to argue that they should use the money for gas or food is pointless.  And, Evan  _ does _ need new clothes.  He allows Connor to tug him in the direction of the door.  “To be fair, we were watching a dog that is worth nearly $5000.”  And even if they only stay for another week, that’s another thousand dollars  _ cash _ in their pocket.

 

Connor purses his lips at Evan, extremely unimpressed with the slow progress they are making.  “The point is, we can use this to get you something you like and is very different from your polo or t-shirt.”

 

Evan is still digging his heels in and protesting.  “I like polos. They’re nice without being too nice.”  Plus the tend to be what his mom can find, so...maybe a change will be okay.

 

“And you look like you’re in your 30’s.”  He wrinkles his nose and Connor taps it playfully.  “Exactly. In we go.” Fine, Connor wins this one.

 

Once inside, Connor beelines it to a rack of muted, forest colored sort of sweaters and starts to rifle through it.  It appears to Evan that Connor already knows what he’s looking for and the sound of triumph the other boy makes tells him he’s correct.  Connor whirls around holding two sweaters knit from a blend of hemp and bamboo of all things and Evan thinks they might just be the softest articles of clothing he has ever touched before.

 

“Absolutely yes.”  He breaths to himself when he’s in the dressing room and wearing a dark tan sweater with a pair of black almost legging like pants.  He can’t believe that he’s looking at himself but he knows he is because he’s looking in a mirror, not a window. And Connor is right.  He looks  _ sexy _ out of the polos and khakis.  Who would have thought Evan Hansen could be  _ sexy _ ?

 

Except for his hair.  He scowls at the rats nest of overgrowth and vows to deal with it at some point today, even if it’s taking the shaver to it back at the house.

 

“Yeah, you’re getting those.”  Connor says as soon as Evan steps out of the fitting room and he feels his face heat up and fights the urge to run and hide at the warm approval in his tone.  He looks at Connor who has donned a soft hemp sweatshirt in black and dark grey stripes and instantly decides that he likes the change in color, albeit slight.  He’s not sure he’s seen Connor wear anything but black since they’ve met.

 

In the end, Connor convinces him to buy four of the sweaters, since he had already planned on buying him two and the sale gave them two for free.  Evan decided on the dark tan one he had tried on as well as one in a forest green, a deep navy, and a creamy sort of beige he felt looked a bit like a sheep.  As a last minute burst of daring, he snags two of the extremely comfortable leggings in black. 

 

It takes a bit of cajoling, but Evan decides to wear a set of clothing out of the store, but only if Connor will also purchase a new pair of shoes because he will  _ not _ ruin his new look with those horrible, old tennis shoes.  Evan allows Connor to dress him in a pair of boots because he’s given into every other choice and loved it, so he’s going to continue until Connor makes a choice Evan doesn’t like and silently rejoices when Connor balls the old clothing up and tosses it into the trash can. 

 

He feels another chunk of the part of him he’s trying to rid himself of crack and splinter away and he looks down at his new sweater, his fingers worrying the hem like he always does.  He stares at them moving and wills them to cease. It takes a moment, but they do, and he realizes that he doesn’t want to ruin his new sweaters, that if he continues this particular tic he’s going to destroy this beautiful thing that he loves and he needs to find something else to play with, something else to fidget with when he worries or just can’t help himself.

 

He sighs indulgently when a maroon slouchy beanie is dropped onto his head but he leaves it on and his heart warms at just how adorable the little smirk Connor wears is.  “Are we done here?” Connor nods and Evan holds the bag with his other sweater and the second pair of pants tightly when the smirk doesn’t fade. “Are we done clothes shopping?”

 

“Nope.  We’re headed to the consignment shops now.”

 

_ Fuck _ .

 

\--

 

“Hey, Connor?”  Evan waits until he’s being paid attention to and holds up a dingy, hand painted ukulele.  “Should I be a stereotypical runaway teen and learn to play something musical?” 

 

“Sure, why not?”  He’s not expecting a real answer, so when he receives one he’s a bit surprised but when Connor holds up what he’s been examining, Evan chuckles a little.  Connor is holding a set of small bongos and god are they on the same wavelength or something? “I can’t read music, but I can keep a beat so I have that going for me.

 

For someone that never goes shopping Evan is a very good thrift store shopper and by the end has enough to replace nearly everything he doesn’t actually like in his wardrobe.  And by he, he means Connor who has to approve of each choice Evan places in the final decision cart. “I knew a well dressed man lay beneath those polos and khakis.”

 

Evan flushes a deep red.  “Shut up.” 

 

“Nope.”  Connor grins widely at him.  He’s clearly enjoying making Evan uncomfortable far too much.  “You’re gorgeous, Ev.”

 

“When are we eating lunch?”

 

“Can’t escape the truuuuuth.”  Connor sings out before taking out the phone and tapping into google maps.  “I read the list, you choose the lunch.”

 

Evan panics after three restaurants are listed.  “Connor, I don’t know, I don’t care we can go wherever you want.”  He squeezes his eyes shut when he hears Connor breathing loudly through his nose, the steady in for a few seconds hold and out for a few more seconds that Doctor Sherman insisted he learn and Jamie insists they both use.  If Connor is using it, it means he’s trying to level his anger. “What’s wrong?” What did he do wrong, is the question he doesn’t voice.

 

Connor doesn’t move save for his breathing, he just stares at Evan with unblinking, unseeing eyes.  WHen he finally blinks, he looks nervous before he speaks. “Honesty, right?” 

 

“Right.” 

 

“You want me to tell you things, things I”m thinking and feeling, right?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Okay.  Um, okay.”  He runs his hands through his hair and now Evan is nervous but he keeps his eyes on Connor.  This moment feels huge and he isn’t going to ruin it. “Your indecisiveness is pissing me off. I know you can't really help it but there are my feelings.”  

 

Huh.  “Okay. Um. So if I make a choice, something I want, you'll be okay…”  

 

“...Okay with it?  Yes, Evan I will. I’m like, the opposite of a picky eater, right?  Nothing to worry about.”

 

Connor’s right.  It’s probably the easiest choice Connor could give him, to be honest, at least when it comes to something they are doing together.

 

“I want to go to Black Cat.” It’s a little eatery that boasts farm fresh and that sounds delightful right now.  Connor doesn’t even answer. He just looks at the location of the restaurant compared to where they are and tugs Evan off down the pedestrian road.

 

\--

 

“You know, I really should get my haircut.”  Evan sighs happily. He’s full and satisfied and still in love with his new clothing and the desperation to take care of his hair is now at the front of his mind.  “I was too anxious before school to do anything about it and then we just left and I haven’t thought about it until now.” It’s been nearly three months since his last cut and Evan’s starting to feel extremely self conscious of how his hair flops messily around his ears.  He normally keeps his hair short, barely an inch and purposely easy to maintain and this mane isn’t at all what he’s used to.

 

He hates it.

 

He can feel Connor’s eyes scrutinizing the shaggy mess that is his uncovered hair. “I like it, actually.”  Of course Connor likes it. “If we go to a stylist and have it shaped, you’d look even better.” He must see Evan’s expression because he smirks as he clarifies.  “I like the length. And with a proper cut, you’ll be super sexy.”

 

Connor has a knack for finding the words to convince Evan to do things normally far away from his comfort zone.  He fiddles on the phone to find the nearest barber and before he can overthink it, clicks the little phone button.  He ignores Connor’s raised eyebrows and when the other end answers with a “ _ Hello this is Dominique's Cuts, what can I do for you today _ ?”  He even opens his mouth to answer.

 

His brain nearly comes to a screeching halt.  What the actual fuck is he doing?

 

Before he can panic, however, Connor plucks the phone out of his hand and smoothly answers all the questions appropriately.  “When is your next appointment slot? Now? Great we’ll be there in five minutes. Name is Evan Hansen and I’ll have a picture for your reference.”

 

Evan sighs in relief before more panic floods in.  What did Connor mean by he’ll have a picture for the stylist?  “Connor?”

 

The map directions drop them in front of the barbers door in mere minutes. Evan doesn’t even have enough time to frenzy himself into a panic.  He watches as Connor scrolls on some app on his phone, Evan assumes Instagram, until he makes a pleased sound and flips the phone to show Evan.

 

The picture is of a bearded young man wearing red flannel with bottle bleach blond hair with a faded undercut that appears to wrap around his head, the top of portion of hair cascading in long layers.  The second picture is the same boy, only his hair is bundled into a messy little bun that rests on the back of his head. It is completely different than anything Evan has every attempted before and he has to remind himself while he’s eighteen, he still cannot hope to grow such a magnificent beard.  At least not yet. He has some decent stubble, however. the point is, Evan needs to only focus on the haircut, not the absolutely magnificent beard.

 

Connor thinks this cut will look good on him?

 

He stares at the photo and then up at Connor.  And then he takes a breath. “It’s only hair.” He mutters, and Connor snorts.  

 

“Exactly.”

 

Evan nods emphatically once.  “Let’s do it. New clothes somehow make me feel like a brand new person and I really really like how, like _ really insanely like  _ how I feel in them, so I can’t see me feeling any differently with a haircut.”

 

“That’s the spirit.  Who knows, maybe I’ll get a trim.”

 

“Maybe you can get a manicure next door.”

 

“Maybe  _ we _ can get manicures next door.”

 

“Sure.”  He says easily, without a breath of hesitation, and he marvels at his lack of fear when it comes to doing something with Connor Murphy.  The lopsided smile Connor shoots him is worth the anxiety that always comes with new experiences and he thinks that maybe soon he’ll be rid of whatever is stopping him from kissing Connor James Murphy.  He hopes.  He's getting a little annoyed with himself about it all.


	19. On The Road Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 77  
> Nov 22
> 
> Advice is usually something Connor ignores, except that he's learned to listen to Jamie and Ryan.

### Connor

Thanksgiving is a time for families, or so Connor has been told his whole life, so when their hosts inform them at breakfast on the Friday before Thanksgiving that they are leaving today to go home to Colorado Springs for the break, he politely declines the invite for the both of them to join and immediately huddles with Evan in the little apartment they’ve been staying in for a month to hash out a game plan for what’s next for them.

 

“We knew we weren’t going to be here for forever, Con.”  Evan’s voice is hushed, quiet, as if he doesn’t want to disturb the rest of the inhabitants of the house.  His hair is pulled back into the little messy bun to keep it out of his eyes as he does his prep for the day.

 

Connor rolls his eyes and leans back against the door, arms folding loosely over his chest.  “I know. I just didn’t want to leave Boulder yet. I really like it here.”

 

He does.  He loves the easy atmosphere of their little apartment, as well as the entire upstairs and their inhabitants.  He loves the crisp air and the fact that everyone seems to own a dog who is the friendliest good boy in the world and loves to be pet and he can’t seem to keep up with how many dogs love attention in Boulder.  He’s filled an entire spiral bound watercolor book with just portraits of the various dogs that are walked in all the various parks in Boulder and the Denver metro area. He’s pretty sure they’ve made it to all of them.  

 

He also likes Jamie and Ryan, and even Carson when he’s not being overly obnoxious.  He just has an aversion to staying in a house where parents are going to be. He’s had enough of parents for a lifetime.

 

Evan is sitting in a crossed leg position on the bed.  “We don’t have to leave, Connor. We can just find somewhere else to sleep until they come back.”  He eyes Connor warily and he’s curious what has him suddenly on edge. “Or we could find jobs and stay here permanently.”

 

He immediately shakes his head.  He loves Boulder, yes, but not enough to spread some roots just yet.  “I still need to take you to the west coast so you can lose yourself among some mother fucking huge ass trees like the goddamned adorable tree nerd you are.”

 

He loves it when Evan blushes.  It starts with his lips barely parting and his breath picking up just a hair as his cheeks start to flood with color.  When just a bare edge of a lip disappears for as scant second between white teeth, Connor feels something drop deep in his stomach and he hides the stupid smile that forms by burrowing into his hoodie so only his eyes remain uncovered, sleeve covered hands coming up to pull at the collar to hide his face.

 

“You look like a turtle.”  Cheeks still pink, Evan’s eyes shine with amusement and affection.  He really hopes Evan is ready soon. He can barely stand how badly he wants to smother the other boy in kisses with how fucking adorable he is.

 

“Is there a club I can join?”  He goes for joking lightheartedness instead.

 

“For mutant, turtle-like humans?”

 

Connor nods.

 

Evan snickers into his hand.  “Yes, but you have to like fighting crime and eating pizza.”

 

It takes him a moment but when he realizes what they’re now talking about, he throws a crumpled ball of paper from the desk at Evan.  “You said I look like a turtle, not that I am one.”

 

He shrugs lazily and fuck if that isn’t an amazing expression for Evan to wear.  “To-may-to, to-mah-to.”

 

And fuck if his words aren’t smothered in fond affection.  “You’re the biggest dork ever.”

 

And fuck if Evan isn’t fully aware of it.  “And yet you somehow like this dork.”

 

“Yeah, I do.”  They giggle at each other and Connor finally dislodges himself from the door to settle next to Evan on the bed.  He leans against the headboard as Evan situates himself so his legs are draped over Connor’s and he’s leaning against the wall the bed is pushed against.  “I think we should head on to another state.”

 

Connor ignores the part of his brain chanting _kiss him kiss him_ and tries to think of something they haven’t done yet to keep them here, but his brain comes up empty.  The things they still wants to do, the places they still want to see, the experiences they want to have here must wait for different seasons and there is no point in being nomads if they stay in one place for too long.

 

Instead, he pulls out the untraceable smartphone, the one they bought that has no connection to their lives in Rochester, and starts to swipe around on Google maps.  “Did you want to stop in some of the mountain towns on the way through to Utah?” He asks slowly as he traces a path through the Rockies and into where Utah meets Nevada and Arizona.  There is a large cluster of National parks, forests, and monuments and he nudges the other boy to look.

 

“Oh!  Bryce Canyon!  And the Grand!”  He gasps and Connor allows the phone to be ripped out of his hand so Evan could move the map around and read all the various locations in that area.  Connor, look at all the green!” He clicks at a name and pulls up a national park website. He barely catches the name Capitol Reef before he’s looking at a page listing out two campgrounds.  “These are open year round, very private, no water - we’ll have to fill the barrel jugs before we leave, Connor, and make sure we have the gas tank and jugs full and all the solar power batteries are fully charged just in case it’s very cloudy all the time in Utah.”

 

His eyes don’t leave Evan’s face.  His eyes are sparkling with excitement as he continues to ramble about all the things they can see and do around the area and Connor can feel something in his chest that hurts.  He’s absolutely breathtaking when talking so enthusiastically.

 

“We don’t have to stay here the entire time, because it will take at least four and a half hours just to drive to Zion from the campsite, but we can stay a couple of nights before we find somewhere near Kanab so we don’t have to pay for National Park campsites.  We’ll have to see Arches National Park before we leave to go to Kanab because we’ll drive right by it but I don’t want to stop today because we need the sunlight to make camp so we can go tomorrow to Arches, yes?”

 

He can hardly wait to kiss that boy one of these days.  “Anything you want, babe.” His smirk feels like it’s going to break his face as Evan’s face floods with red at the nickname and covers his face with his hands.  He glances at the clock. “If we leave by eight, we’ll have about two hours of daylight left to find a campsite.”

 

That has Evan off the bed and flapping his hands about in a sudden panic.  “That’s an hour, Connor! We haven’t even begun to pack!”

 

“Guess we better start, huh?”

 

He supposes he deserves the pillow to the face for his flippancy.  At least Evan is giggling now.

 

\--

 

“Ha!  You are hilarious!”  Ryan’s laughing and slapping at his leg and Connor wants to punch his stupid face.

 

“What the fuck is so funny?”  This is why he doesn’t like to tell people what he’s up to.  He gets these sorts of reactions where people laugh or make fun or mock...a gentle touch from Evan has him clenching his jaw instead of screaming.

 

“You really think...ooh my god I can’t…”  Ryan practically stumbles out of the kitchen still laughing hysterically and Jamie sighs at his retreating back.  The sound only marginally reassures Connor that at least Jamie isn’t laughing.

 

Apparently, what Jamie is is worried.  “What he means to say is that you should not be camping in an isolated spot in the winter.  You want to be around people if you’re going to be stubborn and not stay in hotels. You got really fucking lucky in Yellowstone, so do me a favor and let me know when you move camps, okay?  I can’t have you dying on me.”

 

It takes herculean effort on his part to not snap back because he knows that Jamie is coming from a place of caring and affection, not control.  “Okay, fine.” Connor can feel a petulant scowl beginning to form and he hates it because he is technically an adult and adults don’t frown like children unless they are Larry Murphy and he refuses to be like that ass.  

 

And sweet wonderful Evan seems to realize that Connor needs to be done with conversation at the moment, understatement of the century, and speaks up for them both.  “Where do you suggest we go then?”

 

Jamie grins and runs over to a cabinet to dig out some brochures and maps for the southern parts of Colorado.  “Oh, there is so much you can do. There are the Sand Dunes, and the fossil beds, and…” His voice fades as he digs further into the cabinet once more and emerges with a sound of happiness.  “Got it. It’s a book me and some buddies compiled of national park and the surrounding area for camping and the like, so you guys can have it.”

 

He won’t hear either of the teen’s protests and in the end, they change their plans to stay closer to the cities and warmer, not snowy areas for now and resolve to visit Zion and all that later when the weather warms or after they put permanent roots down.  Instead, they take a decent amount of the pamphlets from Jamie and head down towards Pueblo or Alamosa. Connor is going to have Evan look up places along the way to maximize their time packing now.

 

He’s suddenly very eager to get on the move again.  “Anything new from Alana?” he asks and he sees Evan perk up out of the corner of his eyes.

 

“New?  Not that we’ve seen.”  Jamie kind of shrugs a little and shuffles through some of the maps.  “She just keeps doing what she’s done her whole life. You told someone back at home where you are?”

 

Both boys shake their heads emphatically ‘no’.  “I emailed my mom and told her we were alive.” Evan admits and Jamie doesn’t look terribly impressed.

 

“You should call her.”

 

Connor can read the silence from Evan and he knows Jamie, the psych major, can too.  “Yeah, maybe.” He answers for them both, and the subject is dropped in favor of Jamie helping Evan map out a couple of different route possibilities to get them to the Pacific Northwest while he goes and loads the jeep.  He’s suddenly itching to get back on the road.

### Evan

 

They are staying at the Riverside Inn in Alamosa due to the proximity to the places they plan to see as well as being given a bit of a discount due to the promise of staying a week.  They had arrived with enough daylight left to walk a few minutes and find somewhere to sit and watch the sunset over the dunes. The walk had been spent hand in hand, snickering at the odd joke or observed visual pun and Evan has never felt more desirable in his life.

 

They’re currently sitting and planning their next few days and budgeting for the rest of the winter while waiting for the sun to reach a more promising level.  Connor insists on adding skiing to the list of activities to do in the area around Pueblo and Alamosa, much to Evan’s chagrin. However, he can’t argue against Connor’s logic when it comes to spending the money.  

 

“Ev, the crazy rich dog lady gave us like three grand at the end of it all, on top of the five and a half grand we still have _and_ the other odd jobs we did.  We’re probably close to ten grand and if I wasn’t so paranoid about being traced by a card I’d put it all in the bank.  I swear to god, rich people are insane. I thought my parents were crazy, oh no, she tops them by a fucking mile. If we budget it right, and are willing to stay in some less than stellar places every now and then, we can minimize sleeping outside until the weather is warm and we can camp again _and_ enjoy some really cool things like skiing.”

 

He supposes he’s always wanted to learn how to ski, and if Connor wants to teach him, then so be it.  “And Jamie said something about that couch surfing website, provided I can stomach sleeping in a strangers house.”  Evan muses, slowly warming up to the idea of staying with people and not alone with Connor in the Jeep. “We’re better prepared now, thanks to Jamie and Ryan.”  Especially thanks to them. Before living in their house, Evan had been so sure he’d die if he had to even step food into a stranger’s house.

 

Connor’s head comes up at Jamie’s name.  “Oh, um. What were you two talking about? ”

 

_Shit_.  He had hoped Connor hadn’t overheard anything or seen Evan’s reaction to Jamie’s casual ‘so, when are you going to tell him you’re in love with him?’ because he had wanted more time to overthink the admittedly short conversation before they had left.  Essentially what Jamie told him is he needs to grab life by the reins and to stop being so afraid of failure and rejection.

 

“Um, nothing.  Not really.” He shifts on the cold bench a bit.  Because that’s so easy to do. He could almost scream.

 

There is enough space between them that their joined hands fall between them and remain silent together.  Evan stares all around him. Hills of sand dusted with the pink of the setting sun dot the horizon and he can’t wait to explore it all tomorrow.  He’s the most at peace he’s ever felt and it’s literally all because of Connor. He turns his head just a little so he can look at Connor without drawing attention to what he’s doing.

 

Jamie’s words have been bouncing around in his head all day and he is so tired of fighting what he’s feeling.  Yes, it’s only been 77 days since they left and plenty of people kiss strangers and even others have met, kissed, had sex, married, and sometimes even divorced in the same time frame he and Connor have been on the road together and he’s really not sure what he’s been so afraid of but it all ends tonight, right now.  His heart races as he waits for Connor to look at him. When their eyes meet, Evan darts in and pecks him quickly and pulls back to study his reaction.

 

Connor’s eyes are starting to shimmer and he’s wearing a smile that is growing rapidly and he finds himself grinning back and his hands fly up to tug Connor’s face back to him, slowly moving his hands down to splay one over his shoulder blade and the other over his lower back as Connor’s one hand comes up to gently slide along his jaw while he feels the other hand settle on his knee and he allows himself to lose himself in the gentle touches, trembling when the thumb on his knee rubs softly, absently.

 

He can scarcely catch a breath before Connor presses forward to kiss him again, purposefully, clutching him to his chest like someone to be cherished.  He whimpers when chapped lips move to capture his bottom lip between gentle teeth before diving back into the fray with another press of his mouth. It is as if the very action of Connors lip movement has dredged it out of his chest, just for him, and Evan is helpless against it.  

 

He grips Connor’s neck with shaking fingers and presses back as hard as he can in returning the kiss.  As if rewarding him, a hand absently strokes the thin line of skin along his back where his shirt has ridden up and he can’t stop himself from whimpering low in his throat, both from the touch and the cold.  He shivers and Connor frowns as if just now remembering they’re sitting on a park bench on a cold November evening and the sun is rapidly disappearing.

 

He doesn’t have time to panic that Connor might possibly regret the action because he finds himself being kissed again briefly, warmly, before being tugged towards the sidewalk that leads back the hotel.  He allows Connor to ensure they don’t get lost so he can focus on ensuring that his heart doesn’t leap out of his chest, that his breathing doesn’t grow worryingly fast because he finally did it, he kissed Connor, and he’s fairly certain that when they arrive back at the hotel he’s going to be kissed again because Connor is striding with determination and they share no conversation the entire way back.

 

His prediction turns out to be correct, though in hindsight it wasn't much of a surprise.  He’s barely closed the door to their room behind him when Connor pounces and tackles Evan down into the bed.  He pushes himself up and hovers over Evan with a small, playful smirk aimed down at him. His eyes are bright and intent and filled with so much affection that Evan’s heart aches when he breaks the long nonverbal moment.

 

“Hey, boyfriend.  Wanna make out?”

 

Evan huffs a surprised laugh and shoves at the chest above him.  “Maybe for a little bit. Then I want dinner.”

 

Connor’s smirk fades to a barely there ghost of a smile as he ducks down and pecks at Evan’s mouth once, twice, three times before Evan grips at his neck and holds him in place and loses himself in the warmth of Connor’s mouth.

  
_Boyfriend.  I like that_.  He knows they’ll have to talk about this for real later, but right now that is the furthest thing from Evan Hansen’s mind.  He would much rather focus on how lovely Connor’s mouth feels on his.


	20. Great Sand Dunes National Park & Preserve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 78  
> Nov 23
> 
> The Kiss Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter has mild descriptions of panic attacks.

### Connor

Going to bed with the object of your affections wrapped in your arms is the best sleep aid, even if you only sleep for about four hours because said affection is a photographer and wants sunrise photographs.  Even with all of this, Connor is alert, awake, and nearly chipper as he watches Evan digging about in the rear of the jeep, looking for his maroon beanie he still honestly can’t believe Evan likes. He doesn’t remember the last time he felt this well rested and content with life.  Sure, they had slept in the same bed, tent, or car for two and a half months and had woken up in varying degrees of cuddle, but they had never fallen asleep purposefully cuddling. The preceding hour of kissing interspersed with mumbled endearments probably helped, as well.

 

He smirks appreciatively when Evan’s jean-clad ass wiggles as he shuffles to step fully back onto the rough paved parking lot of the trailhead, the beanie on his head and his ever present camera bag in his hand.  “ _Now_ are you ready to go?”  He asks, holding out his hand for Evan to take and his smirk turns to a happy little grin when Evan does so without hesitation.  

 

“One more thing.”  Evan leans over and presses a quick, barely a peck of a kiss to Connor’s mouth, and he hunches his shoulders up around his ears in an effort to hide his very hot cheeks while admiring the little red patches blooming across Evan’s cheeks.  “Now I’m ready.”

 

“You big sap.”  He murmurs from his little huddle of embarrassment, squeezing Evan’s hand tightly.  He hopes that’s enough to reassure the other boy he’s not trying to be mean.

 

He needs to stop forgetting that Evan is actually a sarcastic little bitch. “Your very, your very red face tells me you like my sappiness.”

 

Like he’ll admit that.  He hip checks his boyfriend who stumbles and giggles, nearly pulling Connor down.  They manage to keep their balance, still gripping at each other, and he can feel a stupid smile on his face but he can’t remove it, he can’t keep it off his face.  Not that he really wants to. He likes his smile right now, because he likes the boy who is inspiring it, and that’s enough for him right now.

 

“Well you’re the one who is insisting on us coming out here way before the crack of dawn because you want pictures over the sand dunes.”  He retorts and Evan’s eyes crinkle with amusement.

 

“And if we don’t hurry, we’ll miss the perfect shots.”  Evan tugs on his hand and he allows him to pick up their pace a bit.  He’s not going to lie, he is kind of looking forward to whatever cheesy sort of pose Evan wants them to take because he knows Evan.  Evan likes taking pictures of him and of the things they are doing and he is definitely not surprised that the very next morning after they first kiss they take a sunrise hike.

 

He’s not at _all_ surprised.

 

\--

 

He can’t get over just how creative Evan is when it comes to setting up shots, his favorites still in the forefront of his memory.  “You could sell your photos, Ev.”

 

“Maybe when we find roots?”  Evan asks, voice climbing in pitch with his growing anxiety.  His gaze is locked onto the sandy path they’re walking along, now illuminated by the early morning light and he’s refusing to meet Connor’s eyes.  “Or, you know, never is a nice option.”

 

Something happened.  Connor isn’t sure what, but in the last hour, something has triggered Evan’s panic and he’s determined to get to the bottom of what exactly has happened.  “What about making a difference with your photography?”

 

Evan huffs and it’s nearly a scoff.  “That is a dream. You are talking about reality.”

 

“Mark Evan Hansen.”  He gives Evan’s hand a squeeze and is surprised when his hand is gripped so tightly it's nearly cutting the blood flow off.

 

“ _Connor James Murphy_.”

 

Was...he tilts his head and squints a little at his boyfriend.  He sounds a bit on edge today. “Okay what crawled up your ass and died?”  His brows furrow and he pauses them in their walking in concern. He had seemed just fine last night, and even this morning on their walk until just now.

 

He definitely isn’t expecting the verbal vomit Evan spews forth.

 

“Maybe I’ve been thinking a lot about what Jamie said and I really think it would be a good idea to call my mom Connor because I really don’t want to have Alana _start_ something or for my mom to pay for a funeral for someone who isn’t dead and I can’t do that to her, Connor, I just can’t.”

 

He feels the blood in his veins turn to instant ice and everything good about today vanishes into nothing as his focus narrows.  “No. Absolutely not.” It almost feels like betrayal, because it’s _Evan_ and it feels like Evan is changing allegiances and he knows he’s not but he is, isn’t he?

 

“Connor, please.  Just hear me out, please.”

 

He’s trying not to feel like that, but his paranoia is growing exponentially and he absolutely will not risk being found, not now, not ever.  “No! You call her, you are on your own.” He’s barely aware of what he’s saying. All he’s aware of is the growing panic and fear that is rapidly transforming into anger.

 

“Connor, wait...”  He doesn't answer. He can’t answer for fear for screaming obscenities and things he'll never be able to take back at the one person he can't bear to hurt.

 

He can feel his chest heaving and his vision is starting to tunnel and he knows he needs to get as far away from Evan as he can before he inevitably explodes.  And this morning was going so well, too.

 

“Connor where are you going?”  Evan sounds afraid now and he hates himself for it but he can’t stay.  He just needs a moment...just needs to be alone for a minute.

 

“ _Connor_?”  Even through the anger, he can hear the trembling and he hates how he reacts, how he sounds to the boy he only wants to cherish and love.

 

On his very last strand of patience, he whirls around and screams, “I need space!  Five minutes. Or ten. Just fuck off for a minute, Evan!” The wide eyed look of horror and panic Evan wears is burned into his mind as he turns and flees down the path before Evan can respond.

### Evan

It’s been bubbling in the back of his mind for 78 days, a low key panic over how they left, and as he watches Connor vanish over a sand dune all the feelings he's been shoving to the back of his mind and refusing to deal with for 78 days suddenly can no longer be contained and he gasps with the intensity of the utterly overwhelming feeling of failure and loss.

 

His fists clench helplessly when his absent father’s voice echoes in his head.   _Pathetic loser._  He had failed at being a good enough son for his dad so Mark had left.

 

Overheard conversations between his mom and Jared’s.   _He’s just an anxious mess, Carol.  I’m not sure what else to do._  He had failed and is failing now at being a good enough son for his mom so he had left, but in doing so he abandoned her just his father did to them.  He can only imagine what his mom is going through, has been going through, and the knots in his stomach only tighten and multiply.

 

He fails at being a boyfriend because this is the first true fight they’ve shared since being screamed at in the library that first day of school and it only had happened because of something Evan had suggested so if he continues on that train of thought, the fight is obviously Evan’s fault which means it’s been less than 24 hours and he’s already proven to Connor that he’s made a poor choice in boyfriends in choosing Evan to like and to take with him on this wonderful trip.

 

Well, it had been wonderful.  Right now, all Evan can see in focus enough to identify is the gravel of the path and the tops of his boots from Boulder and neither of those seem to include any of the memories of the trip, good or bad, save for this moment.  His chest seem to whistle when he tries to draw a breath in and the sound is just another book added to the overwhelming stack of shit he needs to deal with that Evan’s already trying to manage and he wishes he had a proverbial bookshelf to put it all on.

 

Perfect, he’s hyperventilating now.  Connor is gone and Evan is alone.

 

He feels very alone.

 

He is only vaguely aware of his feet moving and is even less aware of the direction he’s moving.  Thankfully, he sits on a rock and belatedly realizes he is tired and had wanted to sit and wants his thoughts to catch up to his body now, thank you, because he doesn’t like realizing what he’s done after he’s done it because it leads to realizations like this, that he is very much once again alone.  He’s alone like he left his mom.

 

He wishes they hadn’t left Boulder.  He wishes they had just joined Jamie and Ryan and Carson in Colorado Springs.

 

“Evan?”

 

His vision is a little fuzzy around the edges and his hearing is muffled, but it sounds an awful lot like Connor and isn’t that just peachy, he’s hallucinating during his panic attacks now because he knows he saw Connor walk away.

 

“Ev, for fucks sake!”

 

Hands grab at his shoulders roughly at he winces and whimpers, flinching into himself.  Apparently the hallucination is an apparition or something because he didn’t think a hallucination could physically touch things.  He hadn’t meant to say anything, he had wanted to keep his thoughts inside the way he had since the second day of their trip.

 

He registers his hand being pressed against something soft and warm and it moves under it slowly, rhythmically, and he finds himself trying to match his own breathing to it.  “Good, thank god.”

 

He really _is_ hearing Connor.  “You _left me_.”

 

“I came back I’m sorry.”  He can see the wetness on Connor’s cheeks but his mind can’t quite register that the other boy is crying, that he is distressed.  He barely feels more than numb himself. “I’m sorry, Ev. I panicked.”

 

And he can tell now that Connor is panicking right now.  Thankfully, he can feel his breathing slowly returning to normal, his senses gradually returning to him, and the first thing he registers is that Connor has him in a loose embrace with one hand holding Evan’s hand to his chest and the other gently stroking at his upper spine.  He must make a noise because suddenly there are rough lips softly kissing his forehead.

 

And he flinches away.

 

Connor immediately steps back and Evan can see the hurt in his eyes but his words are calm and soft when he speaks.  “Sorry. What did I do?”

 

Evan shakes his head and shrugs.  “It’s not you.” He coughs out and shrugs again.  He doesn’t know how to verbalize that isn’t Connor, really it isn’t.  It’s that he can’t handle touch so soon, that his skin crawls and he feels like he needs to rip it off when someone touches him until he’s ready again, and he doesn’t want to lash out at Connor.

 

“Okay.”  He says, eyes still shadowed and cautious.  “You wanted to explain. I should have let you explain.”

 

He can do that.  Evan can do that so long as Connor doesn’t touch him yet.  He purposefully keeps a couple of feet between them as they return to the walk back to the parking lot and ignores the hurt look in Connor’s gaze as he listens to Evan explain in short sentences how he plans to call his mom without letting people know where they are.  

 

“We use wifi to call her cell phone.  Call from behind a proxy, we are quick, Jared can’t trace it.”  When the hurt look in Connor’s eyes turns to guilt, he knows Connor realizes he should’ve listened before reacting and decides he’s not going to push the issue further.  He’s too tired right now. Connor knows what he did, and they’ll talk about it this afternoon after breakfast and a nap. He smiles a little when Connor’s entire countenance relaxes when he finally reaches out with a pinky and links their fingers together.

 

After breakfast, they call Heidi, who doesn’t answer much as Evan expects and so they leave a voicemail.  Evan is still fairly non-verbal but he’s realizing that instead of his skin crawling when it brushes Connor’s, it’s relaxing him and once they’ve left their voicemail to Heidi (short and simply informing them in both of their voices that they are alive and they’ll contact again when they’re ready) Evan practically frogmarches him to the bed and aggressively adjusts Connor on the bed until he can wrap around him comfortably like a little limpet.

 

“Ev, I’m…I’m sorry.”  Connor whispers and Evan kisses the corner of his mouth softly.

 

“I know.”  He whispers back and settles back against Connor’s chest.  “I appreciate you not blowing up at me.”

 

“I shouldn’t have walked away.”

 

“No, you should have.  You were protecting me, Connor.”  Evan insists and pulls back enough to look into Connor’s eyes which are sad and wet.  “You panicked, and instead of lashing at me like the first day of school, you said you needed space and gave yourself the space.  Jamie would be so proud of you, almost as proud as I am.”

 

He looks like he wants to cry but he just sniffs and Evan finds himself being kissed messily and kisses back.  It lasts just enough to give both boys little grins and Connor’s is much lighter, much freer than it was before.  “Thanks, Evan.”

 

“Any time.”  They share one more kiss, brief and sweet, before Evan snuggles himself back into Connor’s chest.  “Are we good now? Can we talk more about this later?”

 

“Yeah.”  Connor whispers and Evan can hear the relief and exhaustion in Connor’s tone.  He still cares about Evan, he is just tired much like Evan is. It’s this realization that allows him to relax enough for his boyfriends rhythmic breathing to draw him down into a restful nap because he knows that no matter what is said later, they’ll be okay because Jamie taught them better ways to communicate.  They just need to practice because while they’re both learning and getting better at this whole friendship relationship thing, they both also still have mental illnesses and if they stop communicating, then it will all fall apart and Evan absolutely does not want that.

 

But he’ll deal with it after his nap.


	21. Cold Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 83  
> Nov 28
> 
> It's their third day skiing and Evan is finally confident enough to brave a blue slope. He’ll need the confidence for something else, however.

###  Evan

 

“Babe, is this a metal version of the Pokemon theme song?”

 

“Erm, yes?”

 

“Sick.”

 

It's their third morning skiing and Evan is finally confident enough to brave a blue slope.  Right after they do this very small green slope first. Currently, he and Connor are on their way up on a lift and are sharing his headphones and he is making Connor listen to Jonathan Young again, not that he seems to mind in the slightest.

 

They’re not holding hands, both sets of gloves make that rather difficult, but there’s the weight of a hand on his knee and whenever Evan catches Connor’s gaze, he’s given a happy little smile and then a peck on the cheek, nose, or lips which makes Evan melt every single time he does it.

 

And if he’s blatantly staring at Connor to hopefully trigger some of those moments, well, who has to know?  Ever since their fight the morning after their first kiss Evan has noticed that Connor is verbalizing his thoughts and emotions a lot more often and he knows it’s purely for his sake.  Evan really appreciates, and dare he says loves, how self aware Connor is attempting to be despite how difficult he knows it is to do.

 

He barely registers the flash of white teeth before cold, chapped lips press to his, lingering a bit longer than the previous kiss.  When Connor finally pulls away, Evan has to tell himself that touching his lips to check that they are still there (because why else would they be tingly and numb at the same time if they hadn’t some how come detached) right now would be weird because he would be touching fabric to skin and he’d rather keep tasting Connor’s lips, not his nasty glove thankyouverymuch.

 

With how wonderful he feels with every kiss, how can he do anything but stare? 

 

“You ready?”  Connor asks, his headphones already wound back around their phone and disappearing this time into Connor’s pocket.  Evan nods and his nerves are starting to take hold of him and now he can’t tell if his hands are shaking from the cold or the fact that they’re about to head off.  “Cool. Now, like we agreed. Nice warm up with where we ended yesterday, Turnpike and Powder Puff Valley and then we’ll take the same lift up and go down Thumper. It drops into the end of the Bunny Hop where you can catch your breath.”

 

Connor has years of skiing experience under his belt due to the years of vacations to various resorts, but they had never gone to Colorado, Larry claiming Utah had better slopes.  He had taken his years of ski knowledge and given it to Evan in the most patient of ways and he still can’t believe that double black diamond and backcountry skiing Connor has been willing spending his time on bunny and green slopes just for Evan’s sake.  Even though Connor has taken the end of the day to find a double run and complete it while Evan rests in the lodge, he knows that spending all the rest of the his time on the easiest runs must be terribly dull and boring and he greatly appreciates that Connor is doing this for him.

 

The point is, Evan trusts Connor implicitly, including when it comes to ski trails because he knows Connor knows his abilities and knows Connor won’t take him down one he can’t handle.  “I’m ready.”

 

His heart might be pounding out of his chest but for once it isn’t making him want to vomit.  Well, it is, but not in a bad way. This feeling is different than his anxiety churns out, even if it’s affecting the same bits of his body.  This feeling is almost like anticipation, like the promise of something good to come, almost like…

 

Oh god.  Is this feeling adrenaline?  It must be, but then he doesn’t have time to dwell on it because Connor is off and he pushes off with his poles to catch up.  The run is harder than the others they were on yesterday, and though they did this at the end of the day, he was very tired and barely remembers any of it.  However, it doesn’t take long to find his rhythm again and by the time they reach the line to go back up, he’s practically bouncing and ready to progress to the blue run.

 

Connor is laughing at his eager excitement but he can’t find it in himself to care.  The feeling is adrenaline, he knows this now because it had only grown as they had carved their way down the slope, and the fact he’s in line in impatient anticipation of a more difficult run is also a pretty decent indicator, he supposes.

 

“I’m turning you into a little adrenaline junkie, aren’t I?”  Connor asks once they’re back on the lift and Evan looks at him away from scanning the slopes trying to discern which was the blue run they were headed for.

 

Evan’s only response is a wide grin that hurts his cold cheeks.  He hadn’t thought he’d enjoy skiing, he had feared there would be too many people, with this week being Thanksgiving weekend and today Thanksgiving itself, but it seems that people are saving their time for afternoon or at least later in the morning and so the lines so far had been breezy and the slopes uncrowded, and by the time the lines and hills start filling with skiers and snowboarders, Evan is relaxed enough that he isn’t as bothered by their presence.  

 

As for the activity itself, he absolutely loves it.  He loves the cold and the spray of the snow and the ache in his legs at the end of a long run and the extremely proud look on Connor’s face whenever he finishes a long hill without falling in his ass.  If he survives the blue run, he plans on giving Connor one extremely passionate kiss.

 

\---

 

_ Goddamnit, Connor, you were supposed to stay where I can see you so this doesn’t happen _ .  Evan is standing by the ski rack, worried eyes scanning the throng of people undulating around, some headed to the slopes, others in to eat lunch.  He can’t see his boyfriend anywhere and the excitement he’s been feeling all morning is starting to be eaten away by his growing anxiety.  _ Where did you go? _

 

“Babe, that lady just told me about the coolest bridge.”  Connor appears next to him and he nearly shrieks, hand coming up to press hard against his chest in an effort to still the very sudden and rapid leaping his heart is making.

 

“Don't  _ do _ that!”  Evan hisses, chest still heaving.  Connor blinks at him and then flushes and looks down.

 

“Sorry.”  He mutters and scuffs a boot against the grate embedded in the concrete and snow.  His apologetic look is almost dejected and Evan hates himself a little for doing that to him. 

 

He touches Connor’s arm gently and tries to give him a smile that is soft and reassuring because he hates that look, especially because he knows Connor hadn’t been trying to startle him.  “You just scared me. What bridge are you talking about?”

 

The dejection fades and excitement starts to take its place.  “The original London bridge is along the Colorado river at the border of California and Arizona.”

 

Evan stares at him with a slight furrow in his eyebrows.  He wasn’t aware there wasn’t an original and a new version of the London bridge.  He sighs when the excitement in Connor’s eyes doesn’t fade. “We’re going, aren’t we?”  

 

Connor scoffs and starts to remove his skis and loosen his boots.  “Duh. I wanna paint it.” There’s something odd to the tone of his voice he doesn’t immediately pick up on.

 

Evan automatically starts to do the same with his own gear and then the words along with the tone of voice register and he props his fists on his hips and gives Connor a glare.  “You mean paint an image of it on a canvas, right?”

 

“Sure, let’s go with that.”  

 

“ _ Connor Murphy you are not defacing public property _ .”  

 

“Spoil-sport.”

 

Both pairs of skis and poles secure, Evan removes his gloves and shoves them into his coat pocket so he can take Connor’s hand in his.  “I want hot chocolate.”

 

“We’ll get some with lunch.”  Connor promises as their footsteps crunch and then clunk as they make their way across the snow covered pavement towards the main ski lodge.

 

“And after, can we maybe try a…”

 

And then a voice that he hasn’t heard since he was ten sends a chill down his spine.  “Mark?”

 

He barely keeps himself from whirling around to stare at the man who fathered him.   _ “Shit.” _  He hisses, the adrenaline still coursing through his veins suddenly turning to anxiety and fear.  “Shit!”

 

“Mark Evan Hansen, that had better not be you I see right now.” Calls from the direction of the ski lift and Evan is horrified to see his dad struggling in a mass of people trying to make his way their direction.  He tries to keep passive like he doesn't recognize the voice or the man calling his name but it’s barely working. This had been his biggest fear in coming to Colorado, and now on their last day here, now he’s coming across him.

 

“We have to go!”  Evan whispers hoarsely as he tugs on Connors jacket sleeve.  “That's my dad act casual but we need to get the fuck out of here please.”

 

He doesn’t even finish his request when Connor immediately pulls him through the double doors and then in through the doorway to where their locker is.  It’s slammed open and Evan’s backpack with his clothing is dropped onto a bench and his shoes onto the floor. He shoves the keys in Evan’s hands and tilts his head towards the ski racks.  “I’ll get the skis, you get your ass into the car and hide in the back.”

 

Evan doesn’t have to be told twice.  The ski boots are rapidly switched for his hiking boots as Connor bolts out of the room as soon as his own shoes are changed and he latches all of their boots together and makes his way with his head down and hat shoved down over his head to disguise himself as much as possible.  He doesn’t hear his name again and makes it into the jeep without any further incident, heart racing and beads of sweat dotting his forehead. 

 

The minutes tick by and Evan grows more and more anxious as he sits waiting for his boyfriend to appear.  He’s becoming more and more certain that he’s been caught, that his father somehow knows they’re missing and what they both look like and Connor is now sitting in the ski resort police station and…

 

The jeep door flies open and the skis are dropped inside.  “That was so fucking close.” Connor sighs as he slides into the driver seat and starts up the car.  “He saw me but didn’t recognize me, I think. Eyes narrowed, but he didn’t stop me.”

 

His anxiety melts away as they speed out of the parking lot and back to where they rented the skis from and there is no sign his father knew for sure it was him or not.  The anxiety however, is slowly being replaced with guilt. “I’m sorry, Connor.”

 

“Sorry?”  Connor says sharply and Evan winces a bit.

 

“For my dad.”

 

He snorts.  “It’s not your fault he happened to be at the same resort we were at.”

 

“But you never got to take me down a black like you threatened.”

 

“Next time, Evangreen.”  Connor promises. “Next time.”

 

###  Connor

Evan is snoring in the passenger seat, legs drawn up tight to his chest and head pillowed against the glass.  Connor has already turned the car off and he sits staring at the other boy, eyes tracing the dancing shadows of the leaves over Evan’s sleeping form, lost in thought.

 

This boy is becoming fearless, at least compared to the beginning of September.  He hadn’t even flinched when fleeing the ski resort, despite knowing his father was there and had recognized him.  Sure, he had been anxious, but when isn’t he?

 

Connor fights a strange coo when Evan makes a little snorfle and whines a little as he curls just a little tighter.  It’s one of his signs that he’s going to wake up soon, and it decides his little back and forth on whether to go and get the room while Evan sleeps or to wait for him.  “Ev?” He whispers, hoping he’ll be coherent enough to answer him.

 

“Hmm?”  He mumbles against the glass and Connor can’t help himself.  He reaches out and trails his fingers along Evan’s jaw, thrilled that he can do this now whenever he feels like it.  Evan smiles and whimpers and leans into the touch without opening his eyes and sure, it’s fine, Connor didn’t need his heart anyway.

 

His fingers continue their little path down Evan’s neck and he wants to nuzzle the goosebumps that form in their wake.  “I’m going to get us a room. Do you want to come in now or wait?” He asks softly before giving into the urge and pressing his face into the crook of his neck.

 

“Wait.”  He replies and his voice is shaky and almost needy and Connor soaks it up.  “No point in both of us walking.” He absolutely loves Evan’s sleepy voice. It makes him want to give Evan the world.

 

Connor smiles into his skin and sucks at it lightly before moving away.  “One of these days you’ll order the room for us while I sleep.”

 

Instead of instantly denying it, Evan just shrugs the one shoulder not against door, face flushed and happy.  “I’ll park the car today if you want.”

 

Connor looks over the fairly empty parking lot and shrugs.  There seems to be only one entrance into the building and he's made sure Evan can circle a parking lot and park the car.  “Sure, go ahead.”

 

He ducks out of the seat and waits for Evan to replace him.  He walks slowly, blinking blearly, but he’s obviously waking up with each step.  He leans up and kisses Connor, just a small peck, before taking the seat and that small action has him nearly skipping into the reception of the motel.  He’s not sure how he found one this cheap near the Grand Canyon, he’s just hoping it doesn’t mean there's bedbugs or the like.

 

The receptionist is very nice, and very quick to assure that their prices are low because they do not offer things like television and internet and Connor is quick to assure her that they are more than okay with both of those.  It’s only one night, after all, and it isn’t like they use either of those at all much anyway. The motel is old enough that there are keys instead of a door card and he pockets them as he makes his way to where Evan is placing a duffle on the ground and closing the back of the Jeep.

 

“Room 12.  No TV or Internet but there’s homemade breakfast, so…”  He allows his voice to trail off and Evan giggles.

 

“I’d say...that’s a very...a very good trade off.”  Evan says slowly and shoulders the bag with a little wince he tries to hide.  “I have things for both of us in here.”

 

Connor took the bag from him despite his protests and swung it over his own shoulder while the other arm snagged Evan’s waist and pulled him close to him.  It made for stumbling sort of walking, but he would manage it because walking like this made Evan laugh and that is a sound he could die happy hearing. “Are you ready for tomorrow?”

 

Evan nods eagerly and ducks out from under Connor to open the door for him, bowing low and gesturing grandly before snatching his hand and pulling him towards the hallway.  “How early would we have to wake up to be there at dawn?”

 

“Absolutely not.”  Connor is not waking at ass o’clock for Evan to take admittedly bombass pictures of the sunrise.  “I am not waking up before 7 am because she said breakfast is at 7:30 and I’ll be pissed if I wake any earlier.”

 

“Fine.”  Evan’s absolutely adorable when he huffs like that.  “Where are we going after that?”

 

He fiddles with the lock and pushed the door open, gesturing for Evan to enter first.  “Down to see the bridge in Lake Havasu City, and then up towards Las Vegas to sleep for the night.”  He follows his boyfriend into the room and tosses the bag onto the queen bed and then wrestles a bit with himself on whether or not to share his opinion.  It doesn’t take long to decide he is a goddamned hypocrite if he doesn’t speak up because he’s been telling Evan to open up about what he wants, he needs to do the same.  “I don’t want to do anything in Vegas.”

 

He can feel all the tension in Evan vanish at those words and snorts.  “Shut up.” Evan throws a pillow at him and he catches it easily. “I don’t either, obviously.”

 

“Good.”

 

“Good.”

 

They stare at each other, eyes narrowing slowly, before they burst into little giggle snorts.  “We sleep in or near Vegas.”

 

“Near, not in.”  Evan interrupts and Connor sighs. 

 

“We sleep near Vegas,” he amends, and when Evan nods approvingly, he sighs again and continues.  “And then after that we drive through Death Valley to LA.”

 

Evan hums under his breath.  “Sounds good.” He says finally.  “Are we deciding now what we’re doing in LA or waiting until we’re there?”

 

He scoffs.  “Planning that far ahead?  Nope.” He snickers and then puts on his more serious tone  “Okay fine. No, because I want to see what’s going on and find some local shit to do not many tourists find maybe.”

 

That smile shouldn’t make him want to start wars, but if anyone else were to be on the receiving  end of that starry eyed look of adoration from him, Connor would go on a rampage. And then he takes a breath and pulls the reins on his possessiveness and tries to remind himself that Evan his a human being, not something Connor owns.

 

God, what would they have done if they hadn’t met Jamie and Ryan?  Certainly not lasted this long, either together or alive.

 

His thoughts are interrupted by Evan tugging him towards the bathroom.  “What are you doing?”

 

“I want to make out, but we have travel ick all over us so we are going to shower.”  Evan says firmly and turns the shower on full blast.

 

Connor smiles admiringly when Evan pulls his shirt off but he also needs to make sure that his boyfriend is aware he’s still in the bathroom with him.  “Um, Evan?” 

 

His head flies up and his hands cover his chest.  “Ooh my god, I didn’t even ask if you  _ wanted _ to shower together, I just didn’t want a repeat of the last hotel.”  

 

Connor has very distinct memories of the very small amount of available hot water at the last venue and shudders.  “I’m just making sure.”

 

Evan smiles a little and tugs on Connor’s hand.  “I don’t want to do anything, not really. I just want to wash your hair, and maybe the rest of you, and maybe kiss you a little.”  His eyes follow Connor’s hands as he starts to undress and he reminds himself to do only what Evan is asking of him and no more.

 

He needs to interrupt before Evan talks through all the hot water. “I get it, Ev.  Hop to it.”

Evan rolls his eyes, but listens and is soon following Connor into the cramped shower where giggles, fumbles, and soft kisses will then transfer to the bed where the soft kisses will trail and trace and soothe until both boys forget about the close encounter they had had that day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanna make it clear, no sexy things are happening really yet. Both boys have fairly high anxiety that manifests very differently, which causes some initial low libidos - basing this on personal experience/conversations here - and I'll make it very very clear when they finally do actually do anything worthy of the M rating. It's going to be soon, either chapter 25 or 26 depending on how I divide that part of the outline up.


	22. Valley of Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 85  
> Nov 30
> 
> The boys go to Death Valley and find a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter took longer to get out because I finally know where exactly the story is going, so I had to completely flesh out the basic outline first and then other bits of the story wanted to be written before this chapter. Enjoy Death Valley. Sorry, no aliens near Vegas in the main story, but maybe as a one shot after all is finished. Maybe. I do have my Harry Potter stories I need to finish, as well.

### Evan

 

The long line of black pavement stretches before him and he tries to hide that his hands are shaking even with their grip on the steering wheel.  Excepting the times he circles parking lots, he doesn’t drive and the very notion that he’s the one behind the wheel right now is not a comforting concept.  However, he couldn’t disagree with Connor’s logic, and definitely couldn’t say no to the pleading tone in Connor’s voice.

 

_I don’t want to drive, Connor._

 

_I know you know how.  I’ve seen your driver's license._

 

_That doesn’t mean I am any good at it!_

 

_But I’d like you to drive some.  Like, when it’s flat between cities and you won’t face a lot of traffic.  I want a break once in awhile, Ev. I promise, no city driving for the anxious bean._

 

_Fine.  I’ll drive through the national park._

 

_It’s not much different than driving in the parking lot only you go faster._

 

_Thanks, Connor. I had no idea._

 

_None of your sass now._

 

His eyes flick to see what Connor is doing as a passenger for the first time their entire trip.  His shoes are off and one bare foot is hanging out the side window while the other is propped against the dash as he lounges in the seat reading a novel.  He wants to make a comment on the scenery, on how he should be looking and not reading, but he keeps quiet. It’s Connor’s choice what he does with his passenger time, and if he wants to read while driving through Death Valley, it’s his decision.

 

Thankfully, they only have a few more minutes until they’re at the first stop for Death Valley, Badwater Basin, and then Evan can stop driving and do something interesting and not panic inducing.  The ranger was telling them at the entrance that the lake had the most water they had seen in years due to the massive storm the other week and Evan is eager to take some beautiful contrasting pictures.  

 

He keeps the music on low as not to disturb Connor’s reading, and is rather surprised that the other boy is content to read when Evan is the one behind the wheel.  Granted, they had only seen three other cars since entering the park but still. He would think Connor would be very alert and ready to shout out commands for Evan at the drop of a hat.

 

He follows the signs that direct drivers towards the parking lot to Badwater Basin and is relieved to see the parking lot is mostly empty.  It seems it is late enough in the day that people have already left or it isn’t a day people come down to this point. Either way, they’ll have nearly perfect pictures and views without tons of tourists and he can hardly wait to get out there and snapping away.  

 

Connor is smiling at him as he puts his socks back on and shoves his feet into his boots.  He doesn’t bother to tie them as he hops out of the jeep and yelps as the wind catches the door and slams it shut.  

 

“I read it’s one of the windiest parts of the park.”  Evan supplies helpfully and giggles at the middle finger he’s flashed.

 

“I think I didn’t need to read that to know.”  Connor replies dryly and zips up his hoodie. Evan is thankful for the maroon beanie that never seems to leave his head these days as it covers his ears from the surprising nip to the otherwise balmy wind.  “Hold my hand so I don’t blow away, Gevanal.”

 

Evan blinks at him, confused enough that he forgets about the outstretched hand.  “I’m sorry..Excuse m...what?”

 

Connor scowls at him and shoves his hands deep into his pockets.  “Shut up. Like, General. But, Evan. Gevenal. General, Gevenal, shut up!  I was trying a new nickname.”

 

“I like Ev just fine.”  He tries to sound assuring but Connor has that look in his eyes, the one that tells Evan he isn’t going to let this go.  “I don’t mind all the other nicknames you try, but I’m also okay with short and simple. I don’t need anything else.”

 

His boyfriend stares at him silently for so long Evan starts to wonder if he perhaps had said something wrong or triggering in some fashion.  “Con?”

 

This seems to jumpstart Connor who shakes his head a little as if waking himself up and he reaches out to pull Evan flush against him before ducking his head and peppering his lips with little nibbling kisses before they relaxed into a soft meeting of mouths intended to both reassure and express love and adoration.  Evan feels it all, from how Connor is holding him to how his mouth is exploring Evan’s. They’re both breathing fairly heavily when they pull back and it takes monumental effort for Evan to step back. “C’mon, I want to see the rarest lake in the United States.”

 

Connor grips at Evan’s hand with strong fingers and follows just behind him as they walk.  “Are you going to force me into more poses for the camera?”

 

Evan nods happily.  He’s not fooled by the narrowing of Connor’s eyes or the long suffering sigh that emerges at the nod.  “Hopefully, I’ll be able to set up the camera to take some delayed shots at a distance.” He knows how tumblr and pinterest cliched it all is but he can’t help but want these pictures of he and Connor, to have these moments they shared on their trip to find who they are and who they’re meant to be.

 

“Cutsie couple pictures.”  Connor deadpans and Evan nods again, a little more subdued.  “Fine.” He sighs though Evan can see the smile pulling at the corners of his lips and knows he likes the proof of their coupleness as much as Evan does.

 

Their footsteps are loud against the wood of the viewing platform and as they reach the end Evan sees that there is a bench that is the perfect height to place the camera on.  “Walk out until I tell you to stop.” Evan directs as he turns Connor to face the side of the mountains around them that he wants in the background of the shot and watches as the other boy walks, sashaying his hips so they swayed back and forth making Evan giggle and resist the urge to press on his dick.  No sense in encouraging it right now. “Okay stop.” He calls out and Connor freezes in a comical sort of pose, one Evan knows he has no hope of holding for very long.

 

He carefully lines the camera up on the bench and when he views the shot in the frame, Connor is perfectly visible yet wonderfully shadowed by the nature and it’s just how Evan wants the shot.  He double checks the balance and the view before he darts over to where Connor is standing on the crunchy salt waiting for him. “What do you want to do for the picture?” Connor asks and Evan doesn’t reply.  He just pushes the time delay remote trigger - currently set for a five second delay and takes a series of ten photos, shoves it in his pocket, and pulls Connor down for a kiss, triumphant at the look of surprise and then utter contentment Connor wears before his eyes close and he loses himself in the kiss.

 

He’ll probably send one of them to his mom.  One of them giggling at the end of the kiss, not during.  Mothers don’t need visual proof their son is becoming a sexual being.

### Connor

 

He knows Evan thinks he’s reading, but he’s not.  Yeah, he’s relaxing with his feet hanging out of the car holding the book, but he’s also watching Evan’s every move both in the car and the road.  He’s not an idiot.

 

They spent far more time at the basin than expected and as such were in a rush now to make it to Dante’s View in time to catch the sunset.  Evan is actually speeding right now, which Connor finds amusing, and is wearing such a steely look of determination Connor wonders how he can bottle whatever it is causing it for Evan’s on personal anti-anxiety drug.

 

“Evan you can relax.  We’ll be fine. We’ll make it.”  He tries to say soothingly but it doesn’t seem to calm him at all.

 

“I’ve read this is the best place to take pictures at sunset!”  Okay, Evan is sounding stressed to the point Connot is ready to have him pull over and he’ll take over.  When he suggests this, however, Evan protests. “But then we’ll have to stop and that will take time and I’m doing just fine driving now thank you.”

 

He certainly was doing better.  And he has a point. So he settles back and watches as Evan continues to speed anxiously along, turning at all the appropriate junctures and finally into the lot.  He resolves to take the wheel when they return as he holds his hand out both for the jeep keys and for Evan’s hand.

 

“See, plenty of time.”   The sun is low, sure, and he knows how quickly the light can change, but he is certain they have enough time to speed along the path until they find the perfect vantage point.  He knows how much Evan wants some pictures in the low light, and if he’s honest he likes the exuberance the other boy shows in his art. He plans to snap a couple of his own polaroids for his art journal - and of course a copy for Evan to put in his own.  Evan has suggested buying a little photo printer but Connor doesn’t think it’s a viable option, at least not until they’ve settled in a place of their own.

 

Provided Evan even wants to live with him once they decide to lay roots.  Maybe that’s a discussion to have sooner rather than later. “Connor?” He pulls himself out of his thoughts to see Evan has stopped and is far behind him on the path.  He’s petting a scrawny looking mutt with a salt and pepper coat and the thing looks half starved and thirsty. “We can’t leave him here.”

 

They really couldn't.  It is currently a very pleasant 68 degrees outside but with the rapidly falling sun the temperatures are going to drop dramatically and he doesn’t care how long the dog has already been out here, another night is too long.  “We can wiggle the budget a bit. Just stay in the jeep more often than a hotel.”

 

Evan nods absently, still stroking the dog’s fur.  “We can see if anyone else has little odd jobs, too, when we get to LA.”  His fingers are detangling little mats in the dogs fur and Connor can see anxiety and tension melting with each stroke.  The damn dog is a miracle worker, apparently.

 

Connor reaches over to check for a collar and finds nothing.  He changes trajectory and scratches around the mutts ears and is rewarded with a happy bark and a lick to the face.  He giggles a little and fixes a mock glare at the dog. “My face is not a salt lick.”

 

“Maybe he’s hungry.”  Evan suggests as he stands and the dog immediately bounds around his feet excitedly.  It’s a fairly quiet dog, only emitting the one bark thus far.

 

“Even if he’s been out here for only a day, of course he’s hungry.”  Connor scoffs, already digging through his satchel for the beef stick he had put in there earlier that day for a just in case snack.  It’ll be just fine for the dog for now until they can get real food for him in town. He wolfs the stick in two bites and wags his tail, panting for more.  “Sorry buddy.”

 

He’s going to need a name, Connor realizes, and decides on one almost before he finishes thinking about it.  “Gonna call you Dante, I think.” He murmurs and frowns a little in confusion when Evan jumps at the sound.  “What’s up with you?”

 

“I was just about to say we need to name him.”  Evan still looks spooked but he doesn’t continue so Connor has to push.

 

“And?”

 

Evan flushes and fiddles with his camera.  “I was going to suggest Dante since we found him here at Dante's View.”

 

Apparently great minds think alike and all that.  “Well, at least we aren’t arguing about the name.”

 

This brings out the laugh he was hoping for and Evan shakes his head a little.  His hands make little jerking motions like he wants to gesture to something and Connor waits patiently.  He knows from experience that Evan sometimes takes a long time to ask for a simple request or favor and while he’s snapped once or twice at the length of time, he’s in a good mood today and snapping is far from his mind.  “If we run, we might still get the sunset.” He says when Evan doesn’t talk and Evan grins and looks down at the newly christened Dante.

 

“What do you think, boy?”  He murmurs. “Want to run?”

 

The mutt barks and takes off, stopping at the curve of the path and cocking his head as if to say, ‘coming’ and the two boys dash off down the path after him, Evan’s camera bouncing against his back and his own satchel against his hip.  It’s only a couple minutes of running at the most, but when they come to a stop, both of them are breathing hard and Connor is wishing silently for death. He’s not a runner. He might hike now, but running is still far from an activity his body wants to participate in.

 

The sun is low in the sky and it’s just starting to cast a low yellow light on everything.  “We made it.” Evan breathes in relief and immediately pucks the camera up and starts to get a read of the light around them with the viewfinder.

 

Dante leaps up onto a rock and stands with his hair ruffling in the breeze and Connor worries for just a moment that the dog is about to jump down the rocks of the viewing point.  He doesn’t, he just points his nose into the wind and closes his eyes as he smells the air around them in contentment. “I’m sure you would love to have _your_ picture taken.”  He says in a soft, cooing sort of voice as he rubs the soft ears between his fingers.  “Yes, I bet you would love that.”

 

The camera is still clicking away and it barely registers any more.  It’s almost as a part of Evan as breathing is and the camera an extension of him much like an arm or a leg.  “He’s very handsome.” Evan agrees and Connor looks up to see the camera pointed at them with Evan’s face mostly hidden.  He can see the smile peeking out from behind it, however, and he answers it with a smile of his own.

 

“My dad wouldn’t let us have a dog.”  Connor blurts out and Evan’s smile fades.

 

The camera lowers to reveal a sad expression.  “Why?”

 

Connor shrugs.  “He never said. I always thought it was a way of punishing me for existing.”

 

Evan frowns now.  “What if he’s allergic to dogs?”

 

“Why the fuck wouldn’t he just tell me that?”

 

It’s Evan’s turn to shrug.  “Why do fathers do a lot of the shit they do?”

 

Right.  Evan’s dad abandoned him and then acted like he had a right for Evan to still obey him.  The small heart attack at the ski resort is still very fresh in both of their memories. He scowls a little at the sudden, unbidden guilt he feels.  Even if his dad is allergic to dogs, it doesn’t make up for making Connor feel like a monster, a loser, like he wishes Connor had never been born.

 

Except, Larry has never actually _said_ these things to Connor.  He’s just assumed it all. Jamie’s words flash through his mind, about how he needs to have a real conversation with his father without allowing himself to become heated over things, without allowing his paranoia to twist everything.  He needs to have a mediator with that conversation, he knows, because he’ll never be able to do that, not fully. “I think I miss mine.” He whispers.

 

“I miss my mom.”  Evan admits immediately.  “I never really tried, you know?  Sure, she’s never home, but I never told her how it was making me feel.”  He’s only saying what Connor knows, but somehow hearing Evan say it makes it only more real.

 

Something in Evan’s tone hurts his heart.  Rubs raw at what already is flayed open from his own musings.  “We’ll stop somewhere with free WiFi so we can email her, okay?”  He finds himself suggesting and when Evan beams at him he smiles a little back.  “We can send one of the pictures you took at Badwater and one of the pupper.”

 

Dante turns his head at that and whines a little.  They turn their attention back to him and Evan snorts.  “I took about a hundred pictures of you already, prima donna.”  The camera is carefully put back into the carrying bag and Evan reaches out to take Connor’s hand in his.  “Come on. Dante and I are both hungry for dinner.” He nudges the dog towards the path and he takes immediately to it, tail wagging as he trots alongside them.

 

The sky is slowly darkening as the sun dips past the mountains and the air has a bite it didn’t before.  “Am I driving?” Connor asks innocently, snickering when Evan shoots him a _look_.  “What do we want to do tomorrow?”

 

Evan’s answer is immediate.  “Finish Death Valley before driving through Sequoia National Park.  It’s snowing there, lightly but enough we shouldn’t stay there and sleep in the jeep, but I want to at least see some of the park.”

 

Connor nods and unlocks the jeep, directing the dog to the back where the bed is.  “Sounds good to me.”


	23. The Happiest Place on Earth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 89  
> Dec 4
> 
>  
> 
> Disneyland!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The dog was an accident, I’m not going to lie, but I love him already. Just to clear up any confusion, in case you read it before I fixed it, the dog's name is Dante. I just forgot to change it before I posted the last chapter. It's what happens when you base a name on a location and then change the location.

### Evan

 

It’s warmer than the day before, and they’re both comfortable in their sweatshirts and jeans, but they can see other people walking around with coats and gloves and hats and they giggle to each other at the sight.  The weather is a lot chillier than the area is used to and that makes for one deserted park. “It really is a ghost town.” There are winter and Christmas decorations everywhere making it very clear what holiday is coming next and Evan can’t believe there aren’t more people swarming the park for all the seasonal events and shows available.

 

“Unusual for December, even for a Wednesday.”  Someone mutters from a bench as they pass and Evan ignores the look the woman gives their joined hands.  Apparently, homophobes exist in California as well.

 

When they’re clear of her overhearing, he turns to Connor and hisses, “who...who just butts...who just interrupts a conversation like that?”

 

Connor arches an eyebrow at him and shrugs.  “Apparently rude people like she does.”

 

Evan huffs at him but resolves to move on and not let it bother him.  “Where are we going first?”

 

A wide grin crosses his boyfriend’s face as points in the distance towards where Splash Mountain looms over them.  “We’re gonna get wet for the first ride.”

 

He shivers and suddenly feels a lot colder than he did five seconds prior.  “It’s 50 degrees outside.” He does not want to get wet, not in the slightest.

 

“Just put your sweater in the bin with my sweatshirt, we’ll be fine with something dry at the end.”  Connor narrows his eyes at him suddenly. “You’re wearing a shirt under it, right?”

 

Evan flushes.  It’s a tank top, white and thin and definitely not something he likes to be seen in, but yes he’s wearing something else.  He nods, unable to verbalize an answer. Connor is also silent as he ushers Evan through the line and onto the front seat of the fiberglass log after shoving their outerwear into a bin.  

 

He’s too busy attempting to cover himself that he forgets to voice a complaint before the boat is moving and it’s too late to disembark.

 

“You ready for this, Ev?”  Connor calls out.

 

He holds up a very shaky thumbs up that does not at all exude any amount of confidence.  He is absolutely not ready for this. Not at all. He’s now both terrified _and_ cold.  “Why are we doing this ride first?”  He calls over his shoulder, nerves and chill making his voice shake more than the movement of the boat.  The log lurches as it hits the conveyor belt and Evan winces when he feels the boat start to tilt up as they ascend the man made mountain.

 

He’s going to die.

 

“Because you refused to go on this at all yesterday when it was warmer.”  Connor yells back and goddamnit how can he still sound so smug despite the way they have to converse.  “And next, we’re doing…”

 

“No.”  Evan suddenly knows exactly where they’re going next and he is not happy at the prospect.  “I do not want to go through the Haunted Mansion.” He hates haunted houses. Hates them.

 

He can hear Connor laughing through the lurch the boat makes when it is waterborne again and casually replies with, “Evan, it isn’t actually scary.  Children go through it and giggle. I went through it when I was five and was fine.”

 

He wants to hit his head against the seat in front of him in his frustration except Connor hadn’t given him the option to choose any other seat except the front.  He wants to say some very choice words but a small trio of middle schoolers are sitting in the log behind them and Evan doesn’t want to be the one responsible for teaching the boys new words and phrases.  He instead flashes a very quick middle finger at Connor that remains hidden from view save for the intended recipient. “You promise it’s not scary?”

 

“Promise, Ev.”  He knows Connor is laughing at him, he can hear it in his voice.  He’s about to make a biting retort when the boat dips and he shrieks and Connor laughs again.  “That’s just the warm up! Better get your picture face on.”

 

He’s successfully drawn from the prospect of the Haunted Mansion.  “Picture!?” No one had told him there were pictures taken on the ride.  Though he supposes he should have expected it, he’s seen the photos of people doing funny or bizzare things like playing chess or drinking wine.  But he had supposed it was photoshop, not…not a real thing. That he’s now about to experience.

 

His stomach drops when he sees only sky and the Disneyland skyline and he knows _they’re_ about to drop and he can’t keep the scream inside and he has no idea when the camera flashes and then he’s drenched and dripping wet and Connor sounds so joyful with his chortleing and hooting he can’t be angry that he’s now cold, wet, and anxious and all from the first ride of the day because Connor is laughing and Connor is _beaming_ and Evan will not kill that joy.  He isn’t hurt, he’s just cold and grumpy and he will get over it.

 

Eventually.

 

When he’s finally encased and warm in his sweater, and holding a copy of a picture that imortalizes his terrified expression, he finally glares over at his boyfriend.  “I demand somewhere warm.”

 

“It’s a good thing the Haunted Mansion is inside.”

 

He suppresses a groan.  Of fucking course. “There are….I can name like...Connor, there are at least a dozen other rides near us that are indoors.”  Not to mention places with warm drinks available.

 

“Haunted Maaaaansion.”  He singsongs and Evan groans.

 

“If this ends up being scary, Connor, I’m going to…”

 

“It’s only scary in the way the old Disney cartoons are scary, in that comic sort of haha silly way.”  He’s trying to sound reassuring and Evan appreciates it but he’s not completely convinced. He supposes it’ll have to do for now, however, because the line is nearly as short here as it was at Splash Mountain and he has no time to process further.  

 

They pass through the wallpapered entryway into the main line through a carved door into a many sided room with candles flickering all around.  The paintings seemed to be moving and Evan startled when he realized they were scrolling up. The tinny sort of old-school Disney narrator voice definitely helps ease the terror he had initially felt at entering a haunted mansion.  Even the Ceiling opening up and exposing someone dangling didn’t startle him like it did some of the others in the room.

 

The small group passed into the a hall of flashing paintings and singing plaster busts to make their way onto high backed chairs.  He wants to say something to Connor, wants to comment on the atmosphere, but he can’t find the words. He settles for holding his hand and gaping around him.  He can’t believe this ride was built in the late 1960’s and figures it has probably been updated over the years as technology advances. The song playing alongside them is catchy and he finds himself wanting to find it on his music app later.

 

There are spinning clocks and black lit scenes and spooky seances.  Floating instruments and ghostly shadows whirling about and haunting the scenes, but nothing overtly terrifying and scary like the haunted houses Jared always used to make him go to and he’s immensely relieved that Connor isn’t the same way.

 

He can definitely see how he might have been scared as a child perhaps, and can easily picture a tiny little Connor darting about in delight, but as a teen he’s just delighted in all the animatronics singing and dancing and he nearly screeches when he sees Halloween Town.  “Connor, Connor it’s Nightmare Before Christmas!”

 

“I know Ev.”  They can see people hopping off the cars ahead and turn to prepare to disembark and he’s faced with the first true fright of the ride.  The mirrors make it appear as if a ghost has been riding with them the entire time and if it wasn’t for Connor standing right where the ghost is, he might have actually screamed.

 

“Oh my god.”

 

Shit, Connor saw him startle.

 

“Oh my _god._ ”

 

“Shut _up_ , Connor.”  He hisses through clenched teeth and this only makes Connor’s laughter louder, even as they wind their way through the singing graveyard and into the light of the sun once again.  Evan scowls at his boyfriend who ignores him, a very large grin still crinkling his eyes and brightening his appearance, and drags them towards the Pirates of the Caribbean ride. So far, they haven’t wished for fast passes.  He hopes it lasts the rest of the day and he definitely hopes he didn’t just jinx them.

 

As they walk, his mind drifts to home, to his mom.  The emails they’re sending are wonderful, they’re great, but he knows that soon they aren’t going to be enough because they’re not able to receive any replies.  Soon, they’re going to have to turn on their phones and answer their messages and own up to their responsibilities.

 

He’s brought back to the present when Connor kisses his cheek before pulling him into the building that houses the pirate themed ride.  “We’ll check on the puppy when we’re done with this one.” Connor says quietly and Evan smiles gratefully at him. He hopes Dante is doing okay in the kennel all alone.  He kind of wishes he could join him there for the rest of the day.

### Connor

 

“Why don’t you go fuck yourself!?”

 

Okay, so maybe it isn’t his finest moment, but he can hardly be expected to maintain a family friendly vocabulary when his best friend and boyfriend is in the middle of a panic attack at Disneyland.  Nor can he be expected to be friendly when the man he’s screaming at has just called Evan a pathetic anxious loser and attempted to shove his way past him instead of walking around like a normal person.

 

The stranger looks unimpressed and draws himself up to his full height.  He looks down his nose and sneers at Connor attempting to provide some comfort to his panicking boyfriend.  “Some of us want to eat.”

 

“There is an entire sidewalk you can use, asshole.”  Connor snarls as he motions all around them. “And, surprise surprise, it isn’t crowded today.  Walk around.”

 

It is obvious the man isn’t used to people not automatically moving out of his way when he is approaching and doesn’t quite no how to handle it.  His face is beginning to purple and Connor briefly wonders if it’s possible for the veins in the human neck to explode as he sees one throb a little.  He’s starting to enjoy the interaction. The man is easier to rile than his father and his reactions are a lot funnier. Larry just rolls his eyes or dismisses him or lectures him, this man is turning into a literal tomato of anger and Connor wants to laugh but Evan is still hyperventilating and he needs to worry about that and not angry adults who aren’t getting their way at Disneyland.

 

“You have no idea who I am, do you?”  The man finally asks and his tone is now one of surprise and amazement.  

 

Connor looks away again from his boyfriend to fix a dark glare at the stranger.  “Piss off. If you were nice, maybe I’d care. And even if I did recognize you, and I was a fan, I certainly wouldn't be after this!”  It takes enormous effort to turn away again without punching the man. He is on a mission to discover out what exactly triggered this panic today because he hasn’t witnessed an attack like this in a long while.

 

“Ev.  Evan, I’m going to take your hand, is that okay?”  He waits for a nod and is surprised when a hand shoots out of the little ball of Evan and drags one of Connor’s hands into its midst.  Apparently is was more than okay, cool. “Countdown?”

 

He shakes his head and Connor nods.  Evan isn’t disassociating or spiraling, he’s just nonverbal and overwhelmed right now, he can handle that with just touch.  He knows from experience now Evan’s little signs that he needs more than a hand or back rub but he can see Evan unfolding slowly already and he’s relieved.

 

The stranger is long gone by the time he and Evan take his place at the table he had sat at after yelling at them and Evan is starting to shift about in his seat, visibly embarrassed.  “I know I overreacted.” Evan sounds tired, and sheepish, and Connor just rubs at his hair.

 

“I do the same thing.”  He says wryly. “At least your outbursts aren’t destructive.”

 

“True.”  He doesn’t say anything else and the two sit quietly for a moment.  “Are you hungry?”

 

Connor stops his people watching and has to think.  “Yeah, a little. Want me to get us some popcorn or something?”

 

He’s surprised when Evan shakes his head and flashes his wallet.  “It’s what triggered the attack.” He admits. “I want to get us some of the famous Dole Whips.”

 

His eyebrows fly up at that.  “You want me to go?” He simplifies his initial question and Evan once again shakes his head.

 

“No.  I’m not letting my anxiety stop me this time.”  He sounds determined, if a bit shaky, and Connor watches as he makes his way to the stand register and exchange small talk and money with the cashier.  It’s not long before he and Evan are walking about with their pineapple juice and ice cream and Evan is beaming as he ignores the treat in favor of talking about how ridiculous he feels now because nothing bad happened with the exchange.  The stand didn’t catch fire, he wasn’t laughed at when he dropped a quarter, he survived the encounter unharmed.

 

“Does that mean you’re going to do all our food orders from now on?”  Connor teases and Evan flushes, still grinning around his spoon.

 

“Of course not.”   He replies with an eye roll after he swallows his bite of ice cream.  “But I can do it more often. And maybe, _maybe_ , I’ll order our next hotel.”

 

Connor is going to hold Evan to that, he hopes he realizes that.


	24. Making New Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 90  
> Dec 5
> 
> The boys make some new friends near San Francisco.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suppose it would be T rating sexy things that happen near the end. Not super descriptive, but obvious what is happening I suppose? My gauge for what is considered “descriptive” or “explicit” is a bit skewed because I’ve been reading shit like Tolkien since I was around eight or nine. 
> 
> There’s also a somewhat descriptive section at the very end dealing with a nightmare about losing a loved one. My brother suffers from the most horrid dreams about losing the people he loves the most and growing up I had four recurring ones all centered around not being able to protect my little brother so that’s where I drew the inspiration for that.

### Connor

Instead of hopping on Interstate 5 and speeding their way up the mainland, they decide to meander up Highway 1 along the coast so they can stop at viewpoints and take pictures and beaches to let Dante run on the beach and in the ocean to his heart's content.  Both boys are still a little on edge, but Connor can feel his stress melting away as the ocean dips and weaves through the scenery around them. He even gets Evan to drive once they reach the Pfeiffer Big Sur State Park so he can also enjoy the scenery without crashing and Dante can’t seem to choose which window to hang his head out of and keeps moving between the two back seats and even shoving his head through either side of the two front seats.

 

Connor has taken back the wheel by the time they reach Santa Cruz and pulls into the first hotel he sees that is under 70 a night.  “I’m going to see if they will allow dogs.”

 

He can see by Evan’s widening eyes that this is not an issue that had occurred to him before.  He smiles wryly and ducks out of the jeep and into the front office. There’s no one at the counter so he dings the little bell, following the bolded instructions to ring only once, and he waits.

 

After two full minutes, he decides that he’s waited long enough and rings the bell again.  This time he hears an aggravated sigh from the back and the familiar quickening of his heart racing joins the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he tries to rein in his anger.  He is being ignored right now, and nothing raises his hackles faster than being _purposefully ignored._

 

Two can play at this game.  He whips out the phone and pulls up Google Maps to locate the hotel whose lobby he’s currently standing in and clicks his way into the reviews.  In a voice that is intended to sound like it isn’t meant to be overheard, but carries in such a way it can’t help but be done, he mutters to himself as he types out a quick review on his very slow way out the door.  “4 pm and no one is here. Rang the bell and waited for two minutes before ringing it again. Heard someone sigh like I was inconveniencing them. I will be finding a new hotel to try and highly recommend other travelers to find a different place!”  He’s never before been so proud of his ability to sound just like his mother.

 

It works beautifully.

 

There is a girl who can’t be much older than he and Evan suddenly there smiling at him from behind their ancient computer.  “Hello, can I help you?”

 

Connor doesn’t change his expression from the flat, deadass stare he generally carries.  “Can I have my dog here?”

 

“Sorry?”  She blinks as if she didn’t understand the question.

 

Connor sighs and represses the urge to lunge over the counter and punch that _look_ off her face, the vapid, _I-have-better-things-to-do-than-deal-with-you_ sort of look that his parents and Zoe wear around him and he hates it.  He’s nearly shaking with the effort of keeping his voice level and calm, and his arms are ramrod straight at his sides, but he manages it.  Barely. “If my friend and I stay a night, are we allowed our dog?”

 

She shakes her head slowly and he sighs again, turning away instead of throwing something at her.  “Never mind then.” The petty side of him looks at the unsubmitted review and pushes the button quickly and without remorse as soon as he steps out of the building.

 

“Bust.”  He announces as he slides back into the driver's seat and leaves the door hanging open.  “She left me hanging alone at the counter for like, five minutes before she came out and only because I started to dictate the horrible review I was leaving for the hotel.  And then tells me no dogs, so no dice.”

 

“Meh.”  Evan shrugs and holds his hand out for the phone.  “I can look for a bit if you want.”

 

He shrugs.  “Why not? Gotta go get gas anyway.”  He puts the jeep in gear and pulls out of the lot back towards the gas station they passed on the way in while Evan gets to scrolling through Google.

 

\---

 

He cannot _believe_ Evan’s luck.  How on earth does he find these things?  They’re now in the parking lot of what used to be a trailer park that has been converted to a sort of place for people to come park their tiny homes and live for a bit.  And according to the very nice sounding woman on the phone, apparently the way they live from the jeep counts because it has a bed, they have all the pieces needed to create every room in a house were it needed, so in a sense the jeep _is_ a tiny house.  And once Evan makes that comparison, there’s no swaying him from the decision to bunk there for their visit to San Francisco.

 

So far, he doesn’t think he’s going to regret it in the slightest.  They’re on the northern side of San Francisco now, and they have an amazing view of the skyline and the Bay Bridge.  The place they are staying is called Homes on the Go and it’s set up to be a trailer park specifically designed for people who own tiny homes who intend to be in an area for an extended time.  She cheerfully tells them that if they plan to be here through at least the tenth, then they are more than welcome to stay for a simple hundred dollars to be paid upfront, she just asks that they keep their little site clean and quiet out of respect for the other patrons.

 

It’s not quite the beach bumming he had imagined when staying in San Francisco, with the awesome view of the open ocean, but the fact that they are all still lining along the beach with a gorgeous view of the Bay Bridge and the San Francisco Skyline makes it all feel much better.  And, not only do they have running water and other amenities, they have neighbors! People with children, people with other dogs, people who are by themselves or just as a couple. They have a spot between an elderly couple who live there nearly year round and a woman who appears to be in her mid thirties alone with her cat of all creatures.

 

When they’re sitting around the communal beach bonfire, they learn that the cat’s name is Muffin and not only is it the cuddliest, coolest cat known to man, it also wears a harness and goes on kayaking adventures with Gracie, the woman who tells Connor and Evan she’s 33 and a writer who adventures in her spare time.  They learn that the elderly couple are actually the owner’s parents and they stay here because they love it and can’t see themselves living anywhere else.

 

Its nearing twilight, but there’s still enough sun that he can’t even call it sunset yet when a long haired ten year old comes up to where their sitting and laughing and chatting.  Connor quells the automatic glare that wants to form when the kid touches his arm. “What?” He snaps and the kid looks taken aback.

 

“I like your nails.”  He says, words running together as one.

 

He sees red at the corners of his vision and barely keeps it to a simple snap.  “Fuck off kid.”

 

The kid listens and bolts back down the sand and he studiously ignores Evan’s extremely disappointed look.

 

“You know, Connor?”  Evan says slowly, and he looks at his boyfriend with an arched brow.  “You kind of remind me of the ocean a bit.”

 

Shit that is sass he’s hearing deeply embedded in the disapprovement.  “Oh god, please don’t…”

 

Gracie snorts and tosses a felt mouse towards the gently lapping tide for Muffin to pounce after and toss about like he’s at a rave.  “Tell me it isn’t because he’s deep and mysterious?” Her tone is wry and amused and Evan shakes his head with a pointed look directed right at Connor.

 

“It’s because you’re salty and scare the fuck out of people.”  He motions down the beach to where the kid is kicking at sand on his slow way back to his own house.  “Like that little ten year old who didn’t mean anything by that.”

 

“He was rude.”

 

“He said he liked your nails, Connor!”

 

“He was making fun of me!”

 

“He wanted his nails painted, too!”

 

Silent pause before a timid little, “he did?” emerges and Evan shrugs.  

 

“I can’t know for sure, but I’ll bet that’s exactly why he came up.  He looked terrified before he approached you.” Connor doesn’t have to hear Evan’s next words to know what he’s going to say because it’s screaming through his body language and tone of voice.  “He reminds me of me at that age.”

 

Connor stares at Evan, trying to file all the new information away so he can process it.  When he realizes Evan is telling him that he just screamed fuck you to a ten year old child who most likely has anxiety, he feels his face freeze in a picture of horror.  “I’ll be right back.” He leaps up and dashes off down the beach shouting for the boy to wait with Dante close on his heels, kicking up sand as they run.

### Evan

Evan loves it when he’s right.  The kid, who is actually eleven, says his name is Mark Levi, but he goes by Levi.  He’s being raised by - and Evan literally can’t believe it right now - his single aunt whose name is Heidi and Levi is determined to one day be as great of an ocean explorer as Jacque Cousteau and Evan lets him ramble on for a full half an hour about ocean pollution and why people need to care it's happening because all he can think of is how badly he wanted someone to listen to _him_ ramble about John Muir or Francis A. Bartlett and he is going to die from all the parallels between him and this child and the need to protect and mentor him.  Their house is three lots down from theirs and Levi invites them down tomorrow for an impromptu nail painting session and vanishes into his house for the night.

 

As soon as Levi disappears into the house, Connor looks over at Evan with a shell shocked sort of expression.  “He could be our lovechild.”

 

He really could.  Levi’s hair falls around his face just like Connor’s does, and he has a similar anomaly in his eye Connor has only Levi’s eyes are hazel with a blue patch like a little lake in a desert.  Evan starts to muse out loud as they start to make their way back to the Jeep hand in hand. “What would you want to name a lovechild of ours?”

 

“Wilbur.”

 

“Wil...I cannot...Absolutely...what the fuck...no!”  He barely manages to splutter out and Connor bursts out laughing.

 

“Oh god, your...your face.”  He wipes at his eyes to rid them of any tears that might have formed but then folds into himself once again when Evan huffs at him.

 

“Yes, yes, laugh it up.”  He mutters. “I read Charlotte's Web and the pig’s name is Wilbur.  I am not naming my child _Wilbur_.”

 

Connor snorts and they continue walking in silence before he breaks it once again.  “Hey, Ev?”

 

“Yeah?”  He replies a bit absently, focused on watching Dante prance beside them.

 

“If we had a ship name, what would it be?”

 

He couldn’t have heard that correctly.  “...Really, Connor?”

 

Connor’s blue eyes are alight with merriment and curiosity alike and it makes Evan smile involuntarily.  “C’mon, answer. What would you think it would be?”

 

“Convan?”  He guesses, smashing their names together.

 

“I’d call us High Anxiety.”

 

He snorts and then his shoulders start to shake with unbridled laughter.  “I actually like that.” He replies when he can breath again, and Connor just rolls his eyes goodnaturedly at him.

 

\---

 

“Do you...do you think…think anyone can hear us?”

 

The interior of the jeep is lit only with the sliver of moonlight peeking through the trees, casting Connor’s face in shadow.  He sounds too together and amused for Evan’s liking when he pulls back from Evan’s neck and says, “not if you keep quiet.”

 

How the hell is he this affected when Connor isn’t?  “Im..impossible. Especially when you move...oh god, yes like that.”  He’s felt Connor’s erections before, they share a bed so naturally it’s bound to occur.  However, he’s never felt it this deliberately against his own, even through the layers of clothing they’re still wearing, and his brain is very rapidly becoming scrambled.

 

A long finger brushes at his lip and he kisses it desperately.  “Shh now, it’s not like the jeep is sound proof against banshees.”  

 

He bites the finger in retaliation and Connor yelps quietly at the action, moving his hand back out of reach.  “Shut up, Connor and put your mouth to better use.”

 

The same finger Evan bit taps his nose.  “So demanding.”

 

“Because you are withholding kisses that I want.   _ Please _ ?”

 

The playful little quirk of a smile turns into a devious smirk as Connor leans over Evan and presses him back into the pillows.  “As you wish.”

 

\---

 

“I’m....I’m not going...oh god, oh god, omigod Connor!”

 

“Shit, Ev, Evan EvanEvanEvan oh shit.”

 

The two boys collapse into a shirtless heap of sweat and red faces and heaving chests.  “That was...that was just...”

 

“...Intense?”

 

“That’s a word for it.”  His hair fans across the pillow when he lets himself flop back away from Evan and attempt to catch his breath.  “I might have gotten carried away. You just...the _sounds_ you make, Ev.”  His fingers trail along Evan’s collarbone who sits up to snatch at a small handheld mirror they keep under the seat.  

 

“Holy shit!”  He presses his fingers into the little faint red splotches over his skin and knows they’ll darken into brilliant bruises.  At least he kept them off his neck...shit, except for that one. Well, if Gracie doesn’t have concealer, he’ll just have to pretend it is a different type of mark.

 

“I like them.”  Comes a grumbly low voice as it draws nearer and soon Evan has an arm looped around his stomach.  “I made them and I enjoyed every minute of it.”

 

“Of course you did, Con.”

 

“Shh, too much talking, not enough sleeping now.”

 

“Change first?  I’d rather not have...cum, jizz, whatever dried on my dick and in my boxers when I wake up.”

 

Connor groans deep in his chest and mutters unintelligibly.  “Fine.” It’s not much effort to remove the remainders of their clothing, wipe down with some baby wipes, pull on fresh pajamas and slip back into bed, this time Evan latching to Connor like a little limpet.

 

“That was amazing.”  He whispers into Connor’s chest and the arm around his back tightens and there is a hum of agreement.

 

“Next time, we take pants off first.”  He murmurs. “Only thing missing was making the tips kiss.”

 

“You are very weird, Con.”  Evan gives a tired laugh in response and feels his consciousness slip away even as Connor’s chest rumbles in amusement under him.

 

\---

 

Evan sits up slowly, trying to gain some bearings of what might have drawn him from his sleep.  

 

_There it is again._

 

It’s coming from his side, and he turns to see Connor tangled in the sheets, curled into a tight ball of sweat and shaking limbs.  Dante is hovering over him with a worried look in his brown eyes and Evan understands the feeling. It’s a nightmare, one of the worst Evan’s seen him have yet.  He places a gentle hand on the upper curve of his spine. “Connor, wake up. It’s a dream. You’re only dreaming. You need to wake up.”

 

He barely has time to move back when Connor bolts upright, tears streaming down his face and his hands reaching, clutching, searching for purchase on something specific it seems because the hands reject everything they touch.  Even Dante is pushed aside and it’s only when Evan reaches out once again and brushes at Connor’s hands with his fingers that they cease their searching and grip at his with a strength Evan doesn’t feel very often. Dante rests his snout on one of their sets of joined hands and licks the other with his long tongue.

 

“Connie?”  He whispers soothing, wishing he could brush the sweat soaked streaks of hair out of his face but he won’t let go of Connor for anything.  “I’m here, you’re in the Jeep. Are you awake yet? That’s a stupid question.”

 

Connor huffs a laugh that’s more of a breath and Evan breathes a sigh of relief that turns to a strangled gasp when Connor suddenly moves and Evan finds himself in a hug that is almost more of a stranglehold.  He brings his arms up to wrap around the shaking torso of his boyfriend and lets him cry out whatever terrors he had just woken up from. He knows from experience that nightmares can sometimes feel more real than real life itself, and to come back from it can be difficult.

 

“You were dead.”  Connor says suddenly and the blood in Evan’s veins turns to ice and his grip tightens on Connor.  “You were falling and I couldn’t stop you and I don’t know how you started falling but you were and I was in something that was floating and I couldn’t reach you before you...before…”  He gasps and crumples around Evan as tightly as he can and sobs and sobs and sobs and Evan’s heart breaks with every shuddered breath and wail.

 

He can imagine just what Connor had seen in his nightmare.  He sees it himself, sometimes. His mangled body at the bottom of the tree, waiting there for some poor soul to stumble across.  He’s always in varying degrees of damaged, sometimes his head has hit a rock and other times he’s been impaled on a branch, never has he walked away unharmed like he had in real life.  He’s not sure he wants to know what Connor saw in his dream.

 

He shuffles around slowly, keeping a now quietly sniffling Connor held closely to his chest as he searches for the tin of mints they keep in the center console for just these moments where one of them needs to ground their senses.  Connor whimpers when Evan has to lean enough to dislodge him and he is quick to grab the mints and soothe his boyfriend back into calmness. “I’m not going anywhere. I just have a mint for you.”

 

He unfolds enough to pick at the little round disk and crunch it between his teeth as he nuzzles Evan’s chest.  “More.” He mumbles, but Evan hears and he obliges.

 

He pulls over one of their jackets and pulls one of Connor’s hands away from him to press the velcro between his fingers and wonders if Connor needs any other senses to be reset.  “More?”

 

Connor nudges the Jeep rear door with his foot and Evan gets the hint.  He reaches out and after a couple of tries manages to catch the latch with his toes and push the door open to allow the sound of the night and the water against the sand rush into the vehicle.  Connor doesn’t relax again until he’s pressed back into Evan as tightly as he can. “Smell good.” He’s still mumbling, but at least he’s moved to two words.

 

Evan starts to meter his own breathing in hopes that Connor will start to mimic it.  In for eight, out for eight. He only holds his breath when he needs to calm his hyperventilating and Connor is already breathing evenly, just not calm enough to bring his heart rate down.

 

It slowly works.  As they lay there tightly knit together, Connor slowly starts to relax into Evan instead of using him as his only way of remaining upright and only speaks when Evan shifts to let some blood flow back into his numb limbs.

 

“Don’t leave me.”  Connor sounds absolutely wrecked, hoarse and trembling and so very fragile.  

 

Evan just tightens his hold and settles back down.  “I’ll never choose to leave you.”

 

Connor lets out a sob Evan can’t help but echo.  The sobbing turns to wet giggles when Dante makes his presence once again known by nosing his way in between the cuddling pair to put his head on his paws and stare at the ocean with them.  “You couldn’t sit next to one of us, no. It had to be both of us.” Connor says dryly, voice still raw, and Evan laughs.

 

They’ll discuss the nightmare in the morning.  No sense in distressing them both unnecessarily and with any luck, they’ll be back asleep in another half an hour so he’s going to enjoy watching the moon dance on the water surface until they are tired enough to sleep again.  He does want to go back to sleep because tomorrow begins their adventures in San Francisco and he can’t be in a city full of people on too little sleep.

 

He kisses Connor’s head and the boy whines before gripping at Evan’s neck and pulling him in so he can press trembling lips to Evan’s and he can feel the last of Connor’s fear melt away when Evan responds automatically, gently, soothing and reassuring.  He continues to kiss Connor until they’ve laid back down on the bed and he strokes at Connor’s hair until his breathing evens back out and he feels safe to close the jeep back up and return to his own slumber.


	25. The Golden Gate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 91  
> Dec 6
> 
> The boys start their time in San Francisco.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fixed the last chapter. That'll teach me to become distracted during editing. When I get really into an inspiration, I generally get all the dialogue out first because that is what usually is running through my head, then I flesh it out once my brain stops moving at the speed of light. If I could type 200 words a minute, I'd be fine haha. The scene has some more words added if you wanted to re-read it, nothing dramatic. It was always intended as a short little thing anyway. Anyway, no more late night editing for me.

### Connor

 

He wakes to a tail thumping right over his morning erection and has to suppress the immediate outburst in response to the pain.  It certainly isn’t the attention he wishes he was getting, that’s for sure, but Dante is also a dog and can’t help where his tail is landing.  The sun is just barely lightening the sky and it’s far too early to be awake but apparently this doesn’t matter to mutts who want a bathroom. “Shh.”  He hisses when Dante whines and after some careful maneuvering, manages to dislodge himself from Evan without waking him. He stares down at his sleeping boyfriend and feels a soft smile form.  He wants to give him extra time to sleep, especially after last night.

 

He flushes at the memories, both the impromptu makeout turned dry humping and the nightmare that had followed later.  He shudders again at the still vivid image of Evan’s falling form followed by his bloody and mangled… He scowls and kisses Evan’s cheek quickly, reviling in the warmth of the skin under his lips, reassuring him that Evan is just sleeping, he’s not dead he’s not dead he’s alive _he’s still alive it wasn’t real_.  Swallowing in an attempt to dislodge the lump in his throat, he pulls the handle just a bit harder than he intends and slips out with Dante, leash coiled and held in one hand with his sweatshirt in the other.

 

The cold air blowing off the bay has him immediately shivering and he hastily drops the leash to don the sweater and picks up the leash to tuck the coil into the pocket of his hoodie before looking down at Dante.  “What do you want today? Walk down the beach or along the road?” The only reply is a slow wagging of his tail and Connor shakes his head. “How about you just go frolic and take a piss because I bet Evan wants to walk the Golden Gate today and if we do that, you’ll want your energy.”

 

Hell, _Connor_ will want his energy.  He abandons his plans to stroll the beach and think and instead folds up one of the camping chairs and clicks his tongue at the dog who perks his ears up and cocks his head while he looks at Connor unblinkingly.  Impressed, he takes the tennis ball thrower one of the other residents gave them and launches a ball down towards the water, Dante taking off after it like a rocket and he follows at a much more sedate pace. He manages to launch the ball three times before he unfolds the chair and takes a seat.

 

He pulls his sketchbook from the pocket of the sweatshirt and the pencil dances over the page almost without his input.  Dante soon abandons the tennis ball and starts a game of pouncing on the waves as they roll in, biting at the ones that have any sort of cresting.  Despite the very real terror of his nightmare, he feels peaceful right now, and he’s never experienced this feeling this soon after one of his dreams.  It’s odd.

 

There are beams of morning light now shimmering on the surface of the water and he winces a little when one catches and reflects into his eye.  Despite knowing Evan should sleep, he wishes his boyfriend was cuddled with him in the chair right now, or at least in a chair next to him. He wonders what sort of pictures Evan would be able to produce with the fog blanketing the city in the distance illuminated in the early morning sun.

 

A thud followed by a snorting huff brings a small smile to Connor’s face and he reaches down to scratch at Dante’s very wet ears.  “Have fun?”

 

“I have proof that says he did.”  He whips his head around to see a disheveled, blanket wrapped Evan shuffling slowly towards him, ever present camera looped over his arm.  His previous wish comes true when the burrito boy folds himself onto Connor’s lap and nuzzles against his neck. “Good morning.”

 

His voice is quiet enough to not break the morning peace and for that Connor is grateful.  “Morning.” Connor whispers back, his hands coming up to support the new weight. His half hard dick is back in full alert mode with the presence of a warm boyfriend in his lap and he wills it down.  Now isn’t the moment, especially when others would be waking soon and some of those others include impressionable young children and while others back home think he’s a monster, no one else he's met has made him feel that way yet and he’d like to keep it that way.

 

“Did you want to talk about it?”

 

He shakes his head vehemently.  He knows the dream wasn’t real, he knows it wasn’t, because he’s holding the proof and to talk about will only dredge up things he doesn’t need to feel right now.  “I want to talk about what you want to do today.”

 

“Mmm.”  Evan hums in response and sits up to stroke at Connor’s sleep tangled hair.  He regrets not taking the time to braid it before sleeping now because Evan’s having to detangle knots instead of slipping easily through in his calming and comforting way and he resolves to not forget again.  “I thought we could park on this side of the bridge and walk across it, at least part of it. I’ve always wanted to say I’ve walked across the Golden Gate Bridge.”

 

He definitely called it.  “We can do that. Did you want to hop a bus and go into the city today?”

 

Evan shakes his head.  “Just whatever we can do within a reasonable walking distance from the other side of the bridge today.  I think need another day before I’m purposefully surrounding myself with the city.”

 

And he’ll always support Evan being aware of and asking for what he needs.  “We can do Alcatraz tomorrow if you want, give you even more time?” Connor suggests and Evan grins.

 

“It’ll still be busy, but sure.  Let’s do Alcatraz and Fisherman’s wharf tomorrow.  I want pictures of the sea lions. And then we can take another day off by going to Muir Woods and exploring this side of the bridge.”

 

Dante makes his presence known again by licking Connor’s very cold bare foot and he squeals before scowling down at him.  “That was disgusting.” Dante just pants and wags his tail and Evan snorts and stands, holding his hand out to Connor, who immediately jumps up and uses the hand to pull Evan to him, scarcely giving him time before cupping his face with his hands and kissing him fervently.  A soft hand comes up to cover one of his on Evan’s face while he uses his other hand to trail fingers over Connor’s cheekbone and around the rim of his ear before settling against the base of his neck.

 

Evan kisses him back with just as much passion, just as much want as Connor tries to show Evan.  It’s Evan who first deepens the kiss, however hesitatingly, and something in Connor’s heart sings at the action.  The timid touch of tongues is thrilling and his breathing is turning unsteady and thready and it’s very quickly starting to remind him of last night and just how quickly things went out of control.

 

He pulls back reluctantly but when Evan makes the most delicious little whimper and follows him, he doesn’t resist.  He slides his hands up the jawline and into the dark blond hair, gripping just a little to tip his head back so he can access those little marks he made along Evan’s neck yesterday.  They bloomed just like he had hoped they would and now he desperately needs Evan in the jeep and starts nudging him in the direction of their little mobile home.

 

They have to part to walk their way back up the dune but Evan’s shaking hand pulls eagerly on his.  They’re moving as quickly as they can over the sand when a familiar little voice calls out to them. “Evan!  Connor! Aunt Heidi said you can join us for breakfast!”

 

Connor wants to throw something at Levi, or maybe sic the dog on him, and the expression on Evan’s face tells him he’s thinking along the same lines, but then he shrugs and nods so they turn on their heels anyway and make their way to the eleven year old and his aunt and free breakfast.  They'll have time later for makeouts and orgasms.

 

### Evan

“Dante is such a good dog, I can’t imagine anyone just dumping him.”  Evan muses as they walk, arms looped together loosely. Connor is holding Dante’s leash who is trotting beside him with a merrily wagging tail and panting tongue.  They’re nearing the first tower and Dante has yet to pull on the leash or jump on a stranger or bark at a bike as it passes.

 

“Maybe he wasn’t dumped.”  Connor says quietly and gently nudges Dante around a banana peel.

 

Evan is so surprised that the thought had never occurred to him that he stops walking completely.   “Why do I feel like we’ve stolen someone’s dog now?” He can feel the worry building and hates it, he hates the idea that someone is out there missing this wonderful dog.

 

“He was too starved when we found him.  He was definitely a lost dog.” Connor is emphatic and earnest and Evan can’t help but believe him.  “And we’re not obligated to do anything. They lost him, we found him.”

 

That he disagrees with, but he decides not to continue the argument at the moment despite it and slows his steps so he can take a look at the views around them.  He can see a dozen wonderful photo opportunities including shots of looking up various bits of the Bridge and so he comes to a complete stop and starts to pull his camera out of the bag.  He feels Connor tugging on his arm and he shakes his head a little and pulls the camera out completely. “I want a break from walking for a minute.”

 

Connor concedes and leans against the railing while Evan fiddles with some of the light settings. The fog has settled so the tops of the buildings are clear though the sky is mostly overcast still and he wishes he had put on another layer under his jacket.  He shivers at the damp wind and pulls his hat down further over his ears with the one hand.

 

The shots he takes he’s mostly satisfied with, especially given the weather.  He snaps a couple of candids of Connor playing with Dante before turning off the camera and stowing it back in its protective bag.  He looks down over the edge at the water far below and wonders briefly what it would feel like to hit the surface. He wonders if he would hit harder than falling on the grass.  He knows he wouldn’t survive, much like the archway in St. Louis.

 

When he turns to tell Connor he’s ready to move on, Connor’s staring at him with a peculiar expression.  “Are you okay?” He asks softly.

 

Connor nods, hair rippling around his head and effectively hiding his face.  “Are you?”

 

Evan tilts his head and blinks a bit at the definite avoidance of the question.  “I’m fine. But apparently you aren’t?”

 

Connor ignores him and keeps talking as if Evan isn’t responding back to him.  “We still have the rest of the bridge and then one more pillar to go around.”

 

“Yes, I know.  I’m fine, Connor.  The walk is nice.” But then Evan looks closer and can see the stress on Connor’s face.  He’s stepped back from the bridge railing as far as he can and Evan realizes that’s the tugging he’s feeling on his shirt is Connor trying to pull him back, too.

 

And then he remembers Connor’s nightmare and he  _realizes_.

 

“Connor, I’m _fine_.”   This time the stress on the word fine gives it the true meaning in response to Connor’s worry.  He strides forward and pulls him into a tight hug and doesn’t loosen at all until he feels Connor hug him back, and even then only so his arms don’t grow numb.  “I promise. I have no intention of doing anything like that again.”

 

He can feel Connor breathing heavily into his hair and he wants to cry with just how much distress he can feel radiating from his boyfriend.  When he feels a drip from his chin, it dawns on him that he’s also crying and he probably should have known he would cry, too.

 

Connor can’t talk, Evan can hear it in every breath he’s drawing in, so he adds on, “we can go back to the car.  We don’t have to finish the walk across.”

 

His words are bringing Connor back enough to look at him with clear eyes and nod and Evan takes no time to turn around and speed their way back towards the parking lot.  He makes sure both Connor and Dante are between him and the railing, just for Connor’s peace of mind, and he can see some of the tension that had been there before fade when Connor makes the connection of Evan’s very deliberate placement, but most remains and Evan hates he made Connor do this the day after a horrific nightmare involving his death, most likely involving a fall of some sort.

 

They walk in silence, knuckles white from where Connor has a death grip, and because they aren’t taking their time to sightsee, they make it back to the car in nearly half the amount of time.  Evan takes one look at his shaking boyfriend and nearly shoves him into the passenger seat, mentally steeling himself back for the drive to their current home. When Connor makes to protest, Evan shushes him and points out that he’s in absolutely no shape to drive, and Evan can, so that’s the end of the discussion.

 

Apparently, they’re traveling against the bulk of the traffic at the moment so the drive to their camp is quiet and uneventful, save for Connor’s static breathing and Evan’s racing heart.  Evan can still feel Connor’s distress and in turn it is ramping up his anxiety because he knows what he needs to do to help him, but he can’t until they are back and parked and laying down and he forces his breathing to regulate first in five second bursts down to eight.

 

Connor’s murmured directions take them easily home and as soon as they are parked and all their plugs are plugged back where they need to go, Evan and Dante curl around Connor to give him all the comfort they can provide.  

 

Well, Evan is.  Dante is snuffling about in the blankets and it’s making both of them giggle through the emotion and tears.  And when Evan asks again to talk about his nightmare, Connor only hesitates a moment before swallowing hard and shaking his head.  “I can’t remember much more than what I told you last night. Just you falling, and I’m not, and I have the ability to help you but I can’t manage it!”

 

Connor is gasping sob filled apologies and Evan is pulling him up and into a tight hug, dismissing the apologies because there is nothing to apologize for.  He should have pressed more this morning about the contents of the nightmare because had he known, he wouldn’t have insisted on walking the bridge. He doesn’t know what to say about the idea that Connor thinks he still might...he’s depressed still, but he doesn’t want to die.  Not any more. “I know you would try, if I were in trouble and needed help.” He says and he’s not sure exactly what he’s saying, it’s all just spilling out in a flood. “You would fight to help me. You wouldn’t stop.”

 

Miraculously, his word vomit actually seems to be useful.  The gasping and crying is dwindling and he wants to coo when Connor turns his face to nuzzle into his neck.  Dante slides his paws into Connor’s lap and Evan pulls back from the hug enough to wipe at Connor’s tears and stroke at his tangled hair.  He’s rewarded with a deep kiss that makes every nerve ending tingle. “I would level entire cities to keep you safe.” Connor says it like a fact, like something guaranteed in this world and Evan’s throat instantly tightens at the fierce fire in Connor’s eyes.

 

It should frighten him, the intensity behind such a violent declaration, but fear is the furthest thing from his mind when Connor has those eyes fixed on him.  He feels safe, protected, loved, even desirable, everything he’s ever wished to feel and give to someone else. He opens his mouth to say something, but where he had too many words before, now he has none, so he chooses to use nonverbal ways to demonstrate what he wishes he could convey.  

 

His thumbs stroke gently along the sharp cheekbones before placing a soft kiss between Connor’s eyebrows.  Connor pouts at him and he smiles softly before moving down and kissing his nose next. “Tease.” Connor sticks his tongue out and lays back down on their bed, dragging Evan down with him.  

 

Dante barely waits for the boys to curl around each other before collapsing over their legs and burrowing his muzzle into the blankets.  Evan watches him fondly and shakes his head in exasperation when the dog lays claim to the bedding and reaches instead for one of the older blankets shoved into a corner.

 

Once they’re covered, Dante is snoring and one back leg kicking, and Connor is propped tiredly up on an elbow and watching Evan watch him.  “Lay down, Connor.” He orders and Connor just smirks. It’s a tired expression, but there’s a playfulness that has been missing since last night and Evan is grateful for it despite whatever is about to come out of his boyfriend’s mouth.

 

“Make me.”  He says lowly and Evan feels an answering smirk cross his face and he ducks in and pushes his mouth to Connor’s in a bold way he has yet to try and is rewarded with a happy sound rumbling from Connor’s chest and he finds it easy to push him down to a prone position.  He breaks away as soon as they’re laying down and brushes Connor’s hair off his forehead, both boys breathing heavily and pink in the face.

 

“Nap.”  Evan says breathlessly and Connor shakes his head.

 

“It’s barely noon.  Make out, lunch, nap.”

 

“Nap, lunch, makeouts.  Breakdowns need energy replenishment, and naps are just the thing.”  He should know, he has enough panic attacks.

 

“Kisses would make me feel even better.”  Connor pushes himself back up and flips so he’s suddenly looming over Evan on his extended, locked arms and Evan know he’s lost the silly little back and forth

 

“Nap then makeouts?”  He says, just for the sake of argument, even as he’s reaching up to brush the backs of his fingers against Connor’s cheek and smiles against Connor’s insistent kiss coaxing him to make it deeper and he can’t find it in him to deny his boyfriend what he wants.  Not when he wants it, too.

 

He may have lost, but he doesn’t mind in the slightest.


	26. The City by the Bay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 94 - 96  
> Dec 9 - 11
> 
> Their time in San Francisco passes in a blur.

 

###  Dec 9

###  Evan

 

“Levi says, ‘you promised to buy me chocolate at Ghirardelli, Connor, remember?  Oh, shoot, Evan if you read this ignore it!’.” Evan reads the text out loud and Connor snorts at the nearly flawless imitation of Levi’s haughty, I’m superior because I’m eleven voice.  Then, says in his normal tone, “we are not buying him chocolate. Heidi already said no.” 

 

The air is laden with the rich aroma of the mixing chocolate and he can feel his taste buds salivating as they watch.  All this line just for some ice cream seems ridiculous, but Connor says it’s the best so they’re here. 

 

There is a significant lack of puppy, and it’s making Evan a bit morose today.  It’s also why Connor wants to buy Levi chocolate. The boy is watching the dog for them today since they plan to go to all the things they can today the dog will prevent them from doing otherwise enjoying..

 

“We aren’t buying chocolate for Levi, we’re buying it for us.”  Connor is saying emphatically. “And if Levi just happens to sneak a piece, well…”

 

“Connor James Murphy.”  Evan stares him down and Connor pokes his tongue out at him.

 

“Mark Evan Hansen.”  He parrots back and then frowns.  “We should change your first name.”

 

That is completely out of the blue and it throws Evan for a loop.  “What? No my name is fine and that is not what we are talking about ri…”

 

“No.”  Connor interrupts and Evan hip checks him lightly in retaliation.  “You’re named after that asshole. You need a new name.” Evan doesn’t disagree, he just doesn’t think it needs to be discussed now.  “I’ll think of one eventually. Anyway, Something-Other-than-Mark Evan Hansen, it is our job as irresponsible teenagers to sneak candy to children.”

 

He rolls his eyes at that and contemplates what he wants from the menu he’s looking at on the phone.  Modern technology is pretty awesome sometimes. “I’m pretty certain that  _ isn’t _ in the job description, Con.”

 

Connor scrunches his nose and Evan has to curb the impulse to stroke at it with a finger until the skin relaxes again.  “And if it was a job description, I’d ignore it anyway so job is a bad way to say it. Point is….”

 

The other boy trails off and Evan finishes the thought.  “...we’re buying chocolate for the eleven year old with a hyperactive disorder?”

 

Now Connor looks startled.  “Shit, really? He has ADHD?”  

 

Evan almost feels bad at Connor’s horrified expression.  “No. But your face? It is absolutely hilarious. He just has anxiety.” 

 

Connor scowls at him and moves his mouth and mutters like he’s mocking him before saying in a louder voice intended to be heard.  “...the anxious boy says like it’s no big deal. Evan, you little shit.” They move along the line, closer to making it inside for some ice cream.  “And no, like I said. We aren’t buying chocolate for Levi, we’re…

 

Evan feels the last of his resolve dissolve away and he sighs.  “...buying it for us. Yes, fine. We just need to make sure it’s locked away so Dante can’t get into it.”

 

A long string of muttered, unintelligible swears bubbles out of Connor before Evan hears, “wait we can just put it in my weed box, done.”

 

Evan feels a little plan nudge at his mind and he pipes up before he can stop himself with his better judgement.  “Well, we have a reason to give chocolate to Levi now. ‘Oh, Heidi, no we have nowhere to put this because Dante gets into anything and I guess we forgot and oh no, Levi I...I guess you’ll have to hold onto this...for...for us.’”  He can feel his stammer grow worse the longer he talks and winces when Connor laughs loudly.

 

“You can’t lie for shit, Hansen.  Try saying it again, but this time mean it.”  He says between giggles.

 

Evan flips him off.  “Why don’t you go jump off a tree?”  He grumbles sullenly and Connor makes a choking sound as his giggle is cut off.

 

“...is that...is that instead of taking a short walk off a long pier?”  He sounds impressed. “Nice. Dark.”

 

He has a sudden flash of worry.  “Oh, is...are you...was that okay?”

 

It’s Connor’s turn to gently hip check him.  “Chill, Ev. I’m fine now. We’ve had like, three days since then.  It was just...the images were just so fresh the first day and I...it was…”

 

They finally step into the building and Evan gets a full face of the delicious smell.  “No, I get it. Fatalistic humor is just fine as long as it doesn’t follow a nightmare, got it.”

 

Connor snorts, his hand coming up to rest in the small of Evan’s back as he moves to stand a little behind him as the line area narrows.  “You are a delight, Ev.”

 

“Not Turkish, I hope.  I’m not fond of Turkish Delight.”

 

“Seriously, you have a future in comedy.”

 

~~*~*~~

 

There is a steady stream of cars slowly winding their way down a steep, brick lined road with exactly 8 curves.  Evan tries to distract himself from the terrifying look of the line of cars cutting their way down the hill by trying to identify the trees that line the winding road.

 

Connor whistles and breaks his distraction.  “Damn, now I wish we drove today instead of taking the tour bus.”

 

Evan disagrees wholeheartedly.  “Why would you want to drive down that?”  It looks like a death trap.” He shivers a little at the thought of  _ living _ in one of those houses and having to fight his way in and out of his own house every single day...it’s a nightmare.

 

“Adventure, my dear Evan Hansen.”

 

He sounds ridiculous trying to sound British and proper.   “If that’s adventure, I don’t want it. And you need a deerstalker hat and a pipe to use that accent.”  He knows he’s probably being ridiculous, that the road is just that - a road, but he can’t shake the anxiety he feels watching each vehicle enter and leave the street.

 

Connor looks insanely pleased Evan got the reference, which amuses him a little.  He’s a goddamn fucking nerd, of course he knows Sherlock Holmes. “Exactly. Fun! And I’m a rebel, I’ll do what I want.”

 

One of these days, the impulse to blurt out whatever comes to mind is going to send him into an early grave, like when he nearly says ‘like me’ but he stops himself just in time.  He’s kind of afraid of what might happen if he makes that joke and he’s not ready for more, not yet. The one shower full of handjobs they shared has yet to be repeated and he’s in no hurry.  He's very satisfied with their sexual endeavors so far and feels no need to further them yet.

 

He jumps when Connor snaps his fingers and snatches up his hand to drag him to the tour bus stop.  “I got it. Victor. I’m calling you Victor Evan Hansen from now on.”

 

He should’ve known Connor didn’t forget about his name.  His sigh is one of indulgence and fondness and he knows a sappy little smile is aimed straight at Connor.  “Why Victor?

 

His boyfriend pumps a hand in the air and shouts, “VICTORY!”

 

_ What _ ?  Evan feels his forehead wrinkle.  “Connor, you’re weird. That makes no sense.”  He shifts his camera to the other side and debates putting the bag into his backpack but then what if he needs it? Better to keep it out and carry it.

 

Connor scoffs, waving his hand dismissively.  “Pot, Kettle. And it makes perfect sense. Victory over your depression, over your anxiety, and over that asshole who calls itself your father.”

 

“...you’re a genius.”  They both fall silent and watch as a truck honks its way by.

 

Connor nudges him before slinging an arm over his shoulder.  “I know, right?! Why doesn’t anyone else see it?”

 

He laces his fingers up with the hand hanging limply near his face.  “Too afraid to open their eyes, Connie.”

 

Connor puts a finger up from the other hand and presses it to Evan’s lips, making their position a bit awkward and leaving Evan feeling a bit strangled.  He wonders what it means that he’s not freaking out. He wonders what it means that he kind of likes it “Okay, no. Cute when making out, not cute when in public.”

 

Evan resists the urge to pout.  He likes Connie. “Fine. Conster.”

 

His response is immediate.  “No.” They pause again as this time a police car wails by with a screaming siren.

 

Once it’s relatively quiet again, Evan hums and then grins.  “Conifer?”

 

Connor let's out a sharp bark of laughter.  “I’m not the one with a tree kink.”

 

He feels his cheeks heat and ducks down to hide his face in the cowl collar of his sweater.  “Shut up.” Just for that, he's going to think of the stupidest names ever. “Um Con-Con?

 

Just as he hopes, Connor gives him such a comically horrified look it's almost as if he popped out of a cartoon briefly.  “No! Just use my name!”

 

Evan arches a brow at this.  “Only if you use mine.”

 

The horrified look is turning into a glare and Evan knows he needs to pull out the big guns when Connor whines, “Just use Con like you’ve been doing!  

 

Evan pulls his eyebrows just a tad higher and closer together and the expression is one he knows is nearing pouting but it's always gotten his way before and…

 

“Or…”  Connor let's out a long, drawn out sigh and tips his head back to stare up at the sky.  “Fine…you can call me Connie. Ruin my big bad reputation.”

 

“Actually!”  Evan has been waiting to make this point and jumps in almost before Connor finishes speaking.  “A lot of gangsters have cutesy nicknames. Makes them appear less threatening so they’re actually more dangerous.”

 

Connor stares at him. 

 

And he stares until Evan wants to ask if he's suffered a stroke.  “I don't deserve you.” he says finally and Evan shakes his head almost violently.

 

“If anything, I don't deserve you so let's just say we both deserve each other, okay?”

 

There is a long pause before Connor responds with a slight tightness to his voice that hadn't been there before.  “Yeah, okay.” Evan feels Connor press a kiss to the shell of his ear. “Wanna walk up Lombard?”

 

Adventure.  He can do this little one.

 

“Yeah, okay. Sure.”

 

###  Dec 10

###  Connor

  
  


He’s never been so terrified to make a sound before.  The tranquil air in the tea garden is almost oppressively heavy to him and he can’t breath.  He can see people meditating, praying, milling about silently in their own heads and he can’t help but feel out of place.  He wishes they were anywhere else in Golden Gate Park. Like, anywhere else.

 

Each step crunching sends an uncomfortable jolt through his spine and he feels like he’s destroying the strangers worship, destroying Evan’s peace with how fucking loud he is.  But then the soft hand in his squeezes and he crashes out of the spiral and blinks and the tight bands around his lungs release enough for him to gasp in a lungful. 

 

“Connie.”  Evan’s soft voice is near his ear and he jolts back.  He isn’t expecting him to be that close despite their hands locked together and his heart cracks at the slightly hurt look turning his hazel eyes a shimmery golden as Evan steps back.  He’s not supposed to hurt Evan. His goal is to never hurt Evan.

 

He tugs on the hand joining him to his boyfriend and tucks him under his arm, smiling when Dante noses himself between them.  “You just startled me, that’s all. Got...um, lost.”

 

Evan nods like he understands and Connor knows he does and is grateful the other boy doesn’t bring the moment back up.

 

He’s a little less grateful Evan didn’t push when they’re standing in front of a beautiful Japanese maple and he has a mild episode because someone touched him.  Well, shoved might be a better word to describe the motion, and he’s not entirely convinced it was an accident, either.

 

It starts when Evan is petting one of the spindly little twig nubs dangling in front of them gently with a single finger, murmuring little praises and compliments to it.  Connor finds it completely and utterly endearing and watches him brazenly. He can feel a slight smile form and it only grows when Evan moves onto the next branch and choses a nub to bestow the same affection and round of encouragement and complements.

 

He hears someone crunches up behind them and before he can turn to see who is approaching, the stranger speaks up and scolds Evan for touching the beautiful maple, for tainting it with his touch, and brushes past Connor, bumping his shoulder hard as he does.

 

Connor closes his eyes against the immediate jolt of red-hot fury.  He keeps one hand in his pocket and the other in Dante's fur, his jaw clenched and locked, and his eyes fixed on Evan to watch for any sign of distress about the situation.  He can’t understand when he finds none. All he sees is bright light and excitement and he doesn’t understand until Evan opens his mouth and starts to speak.

 

Connor watches the man’s face as Evan starts to talk and he thinks it could just be the ticket to solving depression, it was that comical.  “Did you know there are only three species of Acers that are called Japanese maples, and only two of those are very commonly grown?” Connor loves listening to Evan talk about trees, but it’s apparent the man has realized his enormous error in telling Plant Boy Hansen he doesn’t deserve to touch trees.  He’s slowly backing away so he can run back down the path, and Connor loses interest in the stranger as Evan gains traction.

 

Evan’s still going on about the maple trees.  “There is Acer Japonicum and it comes from Japan, Korea and Manchuria and then there is Acer Palmatum which hails from Japan and eastern China though some also come from eastern Mongolia, and southeast Russia. The third is Acer Shirasawanum and it is also native to Japan.   This one is Acer Palmatum and you can tell because…” He makes a small sound of surprise. “He’s gone!” And then, in a far more relieved tone, he adds “oh, good, my rambling worked to my advantage for once.”

 

_ Thank fuck _ .  Connor is shaking from the effort exuded in not punching the ass in the face when he ran over to Evan like that, and the only thing keeping him from yelling out his frustration is the pride he’s feeling that Evan faced that stupid social situation without fear and goddamn he loves this boy.

 

A lot.

 

He’s got to tell Evan.  “Proud of you.” He mumbles and Evan turns a bright red.

 

“Oh?”

 

“Yeah.  You handled that man well.”  He takes a calming breath and quirks a half smile at him, feeling a bit more of the anxiety and frustration ebb away when Evan beams at him brightly and steps up on the balls of his feet to kiss his forehead.  He likes their similar heights. It makes it nice and simple to press quick little kisses whenever the desire comes over him and he leans in without thought to give him a brief peck of gratefulness. “Thank you.”

 

Evan’s returning smile is sweet and makes the bottom of his stomach squirm.  “It’s never a problem, Connie.”

 

He groans.  “Are you going to call me anything else ever?”   He sounds mildly aggravated despite his lack of true annoyance and Evan’s little return smirk doesn’t bode well for him.

 

“Now that you asked it like that?  No.”

 

“Aw, fuck.  Should've kept quiet.”

 

~~*~*~~

 

“What do you think of this?”

 

Connor resists the urge to lick Evan’s neck as his boyfriend leans over to read the message on the Death Valley Facebook page Connor has been editing for 10 minutes.  He has to brace himself as the bus turns and then listens to Evan read under his breath.

 

_ Yo, found this rad dog in Death Valley National Park running around Dante’s View around the end of November.  He’s super chill and we love him and don’t want to give him up… _

 

“Connor, you can’t say  _ that _ .”

 

He pouts at Evan with his arms crossed.  “And why not?”

 

“Because we’re trying to find the dog’s owner.”  Evan says, and Connor smirks when he realizes how reluctant he is to admit what it is they need to do.  Even though it was his idea in the first place, now he’s the one with second thoughts.

 

Connor rolls his eyes and elbows him lightly.  “Just keep reading, dorkwad.”

 

Evan continues loud enough Connor can hear the actual words now.  “...but if you can prove to me the dog is yours by telling me what the dog looks like and what his name is, we’ll work something out.  If no one claims him, we’re keeping him, so don’t worry about that.”

 

“You like?”

 

Evan nods and hands the phone back over.  “Is it bad I hope no one responds to the post?”

 

“No, because I didn’t want to post it in the first place.  I want to keep him and some ass is going to respond, and gonna claim him, and we’re going to be crushed.”  He clamps his mouth shut against the stream of anxiety and his legs jiggles in its place. He smiles when Evan leans his head on his shoulder and starts scrolling through some of the pictures he’s snapped on the camera phone, pausing when Evan would ask and point out something they hadn’t noticed before.  

 

They’re nearing their stop when the screen lights up with an unfamiliar 719 phone number.  “Where’s this from?” Connor asks and Evan shrugs.

 

“I think it’s a Colorado number.  Ignore it. They'll leave a voicemail if it's important.”

 

“Already done.”  He’s back to looking at the pictures he took of Dante at Golden Gate Park and all the fun they had there with him and wishes they had brought him today.  Of course, they wouldn’t be on the cable car and Evan’s absolute delight is contagious and nearly everyone around them is smiling in some fashion, including him.

 

“You know something?”  Evan’s barely heard over the din of the interior of the car and the noise of the city, but somehow he thinks he’ll always hear Evan.  “I’ve been practicing the ukulele since I bought it.”

 

This isn’t news to Connor as he’s endured 99% of each note, so he stays quiet and gives him an encouraging nod to continue.  “So, I was thinking, we could get the little drums that you got and do something with Levi tonight. Since we’re leaving tomorrow and everything.”

 

There’s definitely a wrong answer here.  Luckily for everyone involved, Connor just happens to think Evan’s idea is a perfectly awesome one.  “Yeah, sure. Maybe someone else plays something, too.”

 

Evan’s eyes light up and his fingers scratch at his jeans absently.  Connor reaches over and laces their fingers together to wordlessly stop the nervous picking and Evan pats their joined hands with his other gently.  “I’m going to miss them.”

 

“I don’t think we’ll have a chance to.”  Connor replies dryly, arching a brow and gesturing with the phone.  “Levi has texted me three pictures since we left this morning. The first is a picture of his breakfast, the second of his aunt chasing Dante, and now is a picture of Dante sleeping in their hammock.”  Here he flips the phone so he can show Evan the pictures and Evan snickers at the sight of the dog sprawled inelegantly in the hammock.

 

“Dogs don’t belong in hammocks.”

 

“Shit, yes they do.  Especially when they look like that.”

 

Evan eyes him suspiciously and he hopes his glee isn’t written all over his face.  His wish is sadly ignored. “We are not buying a third hammock.”

 

“At least until Spring.”

 

Evan just closes his eyes and sighs and Connor decides this means he’s won the little mini argument and starts to think about what sort of hammock he’s going to buy the dog.

 

###  Dec 11

###  Evan

  
  


Evan is in the mood for pancakes, and so he’s going to make them some pancakes.  Maybe he’ll see if Heidi will bring Levi over for breakfast so he can return the favor of their first morning here.  Though he should also probably open his eyes first.

 

However, he has a snoring dog stretched out on his legs and he’s slowly becoming aware that he’s curled around Connor quite posessively and that his cock is far harder than it should be for just morning wood and  _ oh jesus it fits perfectly  _ and then the contents of his dreams returns to him in full force.

 

Connor under him, squirming and wiggling as Evan kisses down his sternum, trailing his fingers down his sides as he sucks hickies into his abdomen, fingers teasing over his hip bones as he draws closer and closer…

 

His eyes fly open and he sits up, dislodging the dog from his position and jostling Connor enough he grunts.  He presses his hands to his flaming cheeks as he watches Connor, praying he stays asleep for just a little bit longer so he can process this dream without an audience or witnesses.

 

His cock actually aches from how hard it is and he wonders just how close he was to having a wet dream over just a very sexy one. His heart is racing from the images burned in his mind and it’s suddenly all he can think about.

 

His Connie, spread out before him and covered in love bites.  Gasping and squirming and falling apart into a babbling mess.

 

And all because he touched...he touched…

 

His cheeks flame again and he mentally chastises himself.   _ You are eighteen and an adult, you can handle saying the word dick when it comes to someone else's.  It’s okay to want to give your boyfriend a blowjob _ .

 

He knows Connor won’t have an issue with it.  He thinks, anyway. Evan knows if Connor offered, he would immediately say yes.  He might stutter a lot around answering, but he would be very enthusiastically into it.

 

And now  _ that  _ mental image is burning in his mind and oh he needs some relief now before he explodes.

 

He glances at Connor who is mumbling a little and shifting just a bit and Evan reminds himself that it would be better for him to do some research first before diving into it.  And, maybe wait until he can ask Connor instead of assuming.

 

The pile of blankets that is his boyfriends starts to talk.  “Stop thinking and lay back down.”

 

“I’m hungry.”  He answers even as he lays back and allows Connor to turn and wrap himself around Evan in a mirror of how Evan had woken this morning.

 

“Ten more minutes.”  Connor mumbles, already snoring again, and Evan smiles.

 

He kisses Connor’s nose and slips back out of his grasp.  Dante whines when he sees Evan sit up and Evan arches both his brows tiredly at him.  “Yes, yes. Me too.” He’ll make sure he sets the water boiling before heading over to the bathhouse.  Connor won’t take long to emerge now that Evan’s no longer in bed.

 

~~*~*~~

 

“Hey, Connie?”  The pancake batter is resting and so Evan is browsing through the area they’re driving through today on their way to Crescent City. 

 

“Yeah?”  Connor yawns over his mug of coffee held in his sweater paws.  He’s leaning against the jeep, his hood is drawn over his head and Evan can see bits of his hair peeking through.  They’ll both need showers before they leave, and Dante should probably have a bath, too.

 

He nods.  “There’s a really cool thing in the Point Reyes National Seashore.”

 

“You mean other than the lighthouse we’re going to go see?”

 

“Mhmm.”  Evan flips laptop around to show a picture of the Cypress Tree Tunnel.  “Think of the pictures we can take.”

 

Connor abandons the pancakes for a moment to lean over and whistle approvingly.  “Dante’s gonna love that place.”

 

Evan hums happily.  “We should go there first, because it just gets busier as the day goes on.  Then go to the lighthouse, and then spend the rest of the time we wish on the beach.”

 

“Sounds like a plan.”

 

“Evan!”  Levi shouts over from his porch and Evan waves back at him.  “We’ll be right there! Aunt Heidi is just finishing the sausage!”

 

He laughs after the eleven year old disappears back into his house and shakes his head.  It’s going to be very difficult to say bye to the people they’ve been neighboring with, though he supposes knowing they’ve already promised to call or accept a call from Levi once a week and to email him periodically with pictures and such so long as he and Heidi do the same for them makes it a bit easier to handle.

 

He shuffles a female artist named Mogli and hums along with her soft German accent, watching contentedly as Connor flips the first set of pancakes.  “Do you want any help?”

 

Connor shakes his head.  He looks very at home in their little outdoor kitchen and Evan thinks it's all very domestic and he loves it.  “Nah, I’m good. You said they’re bringing eggs and sausage?”

 

He nods.  “She insisted.”  The music pauses and the phone’s ringtone pings and draws his attention down and he blinks in hopes that the number he’s seeing is wrong.

 

“Who is it?”

 

Evan’s blood freezes when he realizes the number on the phone screen isn’t changing and hears himself say in a haunted sort of stunned tone.  “It’s my dad.”


	27. Sequoiadendron Giganteum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 101  
> Dec 16
> 
> “We just talk and take in the view  
> All we see is sky for forever  
> We let the world pass by for forever  
> Feels like we could go on for forever this way”  
> ~For Forever
> 
> -OR-
> 
> The closest the author will get in this fic to the ‘orchard scene’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is only out so fast because most of it was written weeks ago so please don’t expect the next one this soon. It is also when it starts getting hot and heavy with the romance, so enjoy I guess?

### Connor

 

_How dare he be so goddamn pretty?_

 

Evan has his dslr camera pointed at some random bit of foliage as Dante is darting about sniffing at the roots of the moss covered trees and nosing around under logs and in ferns.  The loose maroon beanie Connor had bought for him in Boulder covers most of his dark blond hair and the soft, cream sweater swings over the beloved black leggings. The lack of bulge where the cast used to be is a comfort, and Connor finds it amusing that Evan kept the gross plaster with Connor's name in sharpie scrawled over it.  This week it sits on the dashboard of the car like an odd hula girl bobblehead.

 

Connor is leaning against a tree with his sketchbook trying to keep the moment forever, captivated by just how absolutely gorgeous he looks silhouetted in the midst of the trees as if he belongs there, which he does.  Dante also slowly makes his way onto the page and he smiles as he smudges some of the graphite to create the shadows on Evan’s face and pauses as he watches Evan lean over to pick a small bit of fern and bring it up to his face.  He has the softest expression on his face as he lifts the tiny branch to the log and leave it there and he wonders what creature his boyfriend has just fed.

 

His boyfriend.  It’s something he never thought he’d ever have, let alone someone with as large of a heart as Victor Evan Hansen.  He knows he exasperates Evan each time he calls him Victor, but he doesn’t care. He meant it when he told Evan why he chose the name, and he’ll proudly call him that until Evan chooses a name for himself and officially cuts himself off of the asshole who is Mark Hansen.

 

He marvels that somehow, beyond all odds, he, Connor James Murphy, has been a positive influence on someone, something everyone has always told him impossible.  He has somehow helped Evan Hansen turn from an anxious, stuttering mess of a nerd into a soft pretty boy who barely hesitates when speaking - at least when he speaks to Connor and even then it is taking him less and less time to adjust to new people - and who is at least a little less terrified to stand up for himself.

 

He feels a bit jealous at the butterfly like transformation.

 

He tucks the notebook back into his pocket and tugs uncomfortably at his sleeves.  He blinks rapidly when he realizes he’s wearing the grey and black bamboo and hemp sweatshirt from Boulder and when he looks down, he sees dark khaki, nearly brown, skinny jeans instead of his ratty black jeans and his heart nearly stops.  A hand absently brushes at the fancy fishtail braid Evan had whipped out this morning and shoves his face down into the neck of the sweatshirt. Oh god, he’s even allowing Evan to braid his hair or he’ll pull it back in a pony or bun to keep it out of his face rather than leave it to gnarl and grow gross within five minutes of a shower.   

 

When Connor looks back up, Evan is staring at him openly, almost hungrily, and he flushes when the camera comes up towards him.  He needs to come to terms with the idea that he’s gone through his own transformation and apparently Evan likes Connor’s just as much as Connor likes Evan’s.  When he thinks about it, it’s been a long while since he’s had one of his infamous outbursts.

 

As the older boy carefully steps his way across the uneven ground, a startling thought dawns on Connor, one he’s had before.  Yet unlike all those other times, he speaks up before he can stop himself. “You know what Ev?"

 

Evan pauses in his walking to look at him with a curious little tilt to his head.  “What’s that?

 

“It doesn’t matter where we are, where we stay, or what we’re doing.”  He pushes on as his words catch up to his consciousness and he starts to doubt whether he should even be saying them or not.  “If it's with you, it's...you know, perfect.” He can feel his shoulders creep up as he speaks until they’re up by his ears, every joint locked and every nerve on edge.  He hates how uncomfortable he feels sharing himself with Evan. He shouldn’t feel this uncomfortable. He trusts Evan, and that is saying a lot for him.

 

Not to mention he doesn’t go homicidal every time Evan murmurs ‘Connie’ at him.  He might even be growing to prefer that name over any other from Evan and _goddamn it here comes another extremely soppy smile._

 

Evan reaches up with his free hand to brush the backs of his fingers against his cheek, cold and a bit dry, but the touch ignites his skin anyway and he leans into the touch.  Evan turns his hand so the side of Connor’s jaw is nestled in his palm and strokes his cheek with his thumb, coming to a rest at the corner of his smile.

 

“I’ve decided you’re right.”  

 

Connor blinks and stops nuzzling the cool palm for a moment.  “About what?”

 

“The number actually being Mark or not.”

 

Ah.  The nuzzling resumes and he feels rather cat like doing the action.  “I thought we already decided you were wrong about the number.”

 

“ _We_ didn’t actually decide anything, Connor.   _You_ decided.” Evan sounds frustrated and rightfully so.  He also moves his hand back to his side, much to Connor’s disappointment.  

 

He sighs.  While technically true, they had also discussed at length the fact that the voicemail that had been left after ignoring the call hadn’t been a feminine voice even closely resembling Mark Hansen, not to mention the contents had stated it was their UberEats delivery driver asking for exact directions because she couldn't find the office building.  By the time Heidi and Levi were seen making their way over to their camp, it had been decided that unless the number called again, it wasn’t anything to worry about. “Okay, yeah, sorry.” He says quietly. He really should remember by now that Evan’s anxiety will do what it wants and yes, he shouldn’t have just dismissed Evan’s concerns.

 

Evan shrugs and links their arms.  “I’m over it now. Mostly. I just can’t get over the idea that he might have our phone number.”

 

He’s not about to admit that fear is also running through his mind because he’s already told Evan he’s dismissed it as a possibility.  “Ev. It’s not possible for your dad to have this number, not unless…” Connor’s voice trails off as a very horrifying and realistically possible scenario occurs to him.  Evan’s own expression is starting to match what Connor is feeling and he doesn’t have to wonder if Evan’s thinking the same thing he is because Evan chooses that moment to voice his own theory.

 

“What if Jamie, Ryan, or Carson know Mark?”

 

At least his fears aren’t just irrational paranoia, not if Evan is thinking the same things.  “Carson is most likely out of that list. Plus, Jamie promised that as long as we gave him updates he’d keep quiet.  It...it isn’t him. It wouldn’t be.”

 

Evan looks like he’s trying not to hyperventilate, hands wringing the strap of his camera and one boot starting to dig at the mulchy soil.  “Okay, yeah. I know. Still, can you…”

 

The phone is already in his hand and the group text between the three college boys and them open and loading.  “Already on it.”

 

He types out a quick, _none of you gave our number to Evan's dad, right?_

 

It doesn’t take long for a response from Jamie.

 

_Don’t be an idiot.  You promised to keep us in the loop, we_ all _promised not to tell on you.  You’ve kept your promise, we’ve kept ours.  Let us know what we can do to help_.

 

He jots out a quick _thx, fine rn_ and looks back at Evan.  “See?”

 

Evan lets out a measured sigh and Connor wonders if he’s doing his metered breathing right now.  “Jamie didn’t say anything. We don’t know yet about Ryan or Carson. And it’s not like you can’t accidentally spill something in a conversation.  God knows I do it enough.” The last bit is muttered under his breath and Connor has to fight a laugh.

 

This is a fair point.  But it's also the opposite of moving away from panic attack zone so he tries for a reassuring tone.  “No, but we know them. It wasn’t any of the college guys. Besides, it’s been days and the number hasn’t tried to call us again, so my theory still holds the most water.  And,” here he has to force some level positiveness into his tone, “if they do call again and it _is_ your dad, we’ll change the number.”  God he hopes it wasn’t Mark Hansen and if it was, he _really_ hopes it wasn’t Carson or Ryan who gave them away.

 

The tense shoulders relax minutely and Evan pulls a little on Connor’s arm in the direction of the path and he accepts that this is Evan’s way of ending the conversation.  He doesn’t blame the other boy. He doesn’t want to think or talk about it anymore, either. They’re on their way to a little point along the coast that they’re told has the perfect view for pictures and Evan hasn’t been able to talk about anything else.   “Have you checked for a response yet?”

 

It takes a moment for Connor to understand about what Evan’s talking about.  “Oh, no I haven’t.” He pulls the phone out again as they walk and brings up the Facebook page for Death Valley.  His eyes widen when he sees that they actually have a response and dread sinks in his heart. He decides to read the response out loud so if it’s bad news, they’re dealing with it together.

 

“‘If he responds to the name Pepsi, it’s our dog.  We’ve always had issues with him running away from us and if he’s staying with you with no issue and you’re willing to keep him, it’s meant to be and we release all responsibility of the dog to you.’”

 

The two boys stare at each other in disbelief.  “ _Pepsi_?”  Evan’s tone is one of incredulous disbelief.

 

Dante sneezes at the name and Connor bursts into loud laughter at the disgruntled look on the dog’s face and drops to kiss Dante on the nose.  “I like the name we gave him.” He says smugly as he ruffles the dog’s ears.

 

“Suits him far more than Pepsi.”  Evan agrees, and Connor swears the dogs nods along.

### Evan

 

Connor can call him a nerd all he wants, but Evan never feels more at home than he does around trees or surrounded by nature.  And Connor as well, he supposes. The other boy is so easy for him to talk to and to be himself around now and it should honestly probably freak him out more than it is.  He’s never felt so relaxed, so comfortable, so _at home_ around another human being, and the very idea that it’s _Connor Murphy_ is mind boggling still to him.

 

Though, his anxiety has been a little heightened as of late, and Evan knows the source.  Fortunately, the source has yet to call again. Unfortunately, they still aren’t a hundred percent certain _who_ the source even is.

 

Well, Connor isn’t.  Evan _had_ been certain it was his dad, but now that the phone has remained silent for days, he needs to just remember that Connor is _probably_ correct in thinking that either Evan is misremembering his dad’s phone number, or his dad changed his number and the call was a complete accident by a random stranger.  He can’t be thinking that friends might have betrayed them, or that his dad somehow managed to find someone who _can_ find them and he needs to stop thinking now before he delves into panic.  Connor is right, there isn’t anything to worry about unless the number calls again.

 

Their hike so far has taken twice as long as advertised, but it is entirely his fault.  He has no self control when it comes to nature and photography and the Pacific Northwest is just so beautiful.  They finally have reached the view point and he’s now as close to the edge as he dares, snapping shot after shot of the horizon of ocean stretching as far as he can see with the green of the trees edging his view.  

 

Connor is settled on the bench and has pulled out his watercolors.  Evan hears him make a little sound of frustration and turns to see him scrubbing at the paper with his brush and bites his lip to keep a giant smile from blooming.  He slowly walks over and joins him on the bench, pulling out his journal as he does so.

 

However, the book just sits in his lap as he is distracted by watching him paint.  It’s as he’s staring at Connor’s long fingers gingerly holding his brush that he realizes he loves him romantically and it’s kind of a shock to actually hear himself think the thought of being in love with someone.

 

It kind of freaks out for a moment internally.  They’re only eighteen. What does he know about love and being in love?  He can feel his heart rate rising and Connor looks over at him with a concerned look and the sound of his accelerated breathing suddenly explodes in his ears.   It’s the look from Connor, the tender concern and worry, that cuts through his worrying about nothing and he’s suddenly calm, very calm, and Evan doesn’t even hesitate pulling his boyfriend into the softest, warmest, most love-filled kiss he can manage.

 

When they break apart, Connor is bright red and his hand comes up to cover his mouth in an attempt to hide the wide smile breaking through.  

 

“I’m in love with you, Connor Murphy.”  


“Thank _fuck_ for that.”  Connor sounds giddier than Evan’s ever heard and yet he’s suddenly filled with self-doubt and stumbles to explain further.

 

“Or, at least as well as any teenager can with someone they’ve only known a few months.  That sounds weird, doesn’t it? I shouldn’t say that yet, should I?”

 

He watches as Connor silently closes his sketchbook and puts aways all of his paints.  Once all in his satchel, he turns back to Evan. “Shut up. I love you, too, you dork.”  


He has no time to apologize again because in one move, Connor is doing his best to straddle him on the uneven bench and is kissing him for all he’s worth and Evan completely forgets what it was he had been overthinking when he feels teeth scrape against his throat.  He feels like he’s slowly descending into hyperventilation with each breath and he can feel his legs trembling and feels extremely thankful he’s sitting on a bench right now because otherwise he wouldn’t be able to hold himself upright.

 

While Connor is making him feel wonderful, he does not want to have to finish the day either a gross sticky mess or commando because he knows he’ll only last about 0.001 more seconds if Connor moves with just a tiny bit more purpose.  “Con.” He manages to huff through his rapid breathing. “Connie wait not here.”

 

He can see the effort Connor makes in first pulling away from Evan, breathing heavily as he does so.  It takes another moment of eternal wrestling visible on his face before he slides off of Evan’s lap to allow them both to catch their breath.  “Yeah, yeah not here. We can wait.” He sounds like he doesn’t want to, and if that isn’t exactly Evan’s mood, he doesn’t know what is.

 

“I mean, not too long.”  Evan can’t seem to catch his breath and the way Connor’s eyes are burning into him certainly isn’t helping.  “Like, we...we should make our way back to the jeep now.” He hops off the bench and snaps his fingers at Dante who reluctantly follows but perks up when Evan makes little kissy cajoling sounds, saying things like “I promise, we’ll go back out this afternoon.”  He feels bad he’s putting his own libido before the dog’s walk, but at the same time it had taken an hour to get to the lookout and just the idea they had to wait another hour just to make it back to the parking lot and then another twenty minutes back to the motel.

 

They’re nearing the parking lot when he finally gains the courage to ask what he’s been burning to ask for days now.  “Connie...Can I try...may I ask for something?”

 

His reply is immediate.  “Of course.”

 

He barrels on without thinking, trying not to think, because if he thinks he’ll chicken out again and he doesn’t want that this time.  “Well...well I sort of have been...well...I’ve been having a lot of dreams lately. About...oh god, I can’t believe I’m saying this out loud, about blowjobs.”  He had had yet another dream this morning and he’s done with the dreams.

 

He wants reality.

 

Connor’s eyes light up and he stops turn to Evan and pull them together, his fingers tight on Evan’s hips and oh god it feels fantastic.  “Fuck, yeah, I’ll blow you.”

 

He’s glad about that, but it isn’t exactly what he is talking about.  He tries to ignore that Connor’s hard on is currently rubbing very pleasantly against his own and stumbles through the actual request.  “Well, I mean...that would...I would like that, a lot in fact, but I was more thinking about...blowing you?”

 

He can tell that isn’t what Connor had been expecting Evan to ask for by the way his hips stop and he blinks, kind of shaking his head periodically as if checking he’s awake and while it’s amusing, it’s also not answering his question.

 

“Connie?”

 

He jumps a bit and then says in a voice that is far louder than either expect, “Yeah!”  He coughs and flushes, his next reply a much more sedate tone. “Yeah. I mean, yeah. Okay.  Um.” His look grows a bit more confused and embarrassed and he gestures vaguely in a circle.  “Here?”

 

It’s Evan’s turn to be embarrassed and his hands cover his flaming cheeks.  “No! I mean, well. Yes, but no. I want to. Like, so _incredibly_ want to.  But I also want a bed.”  They start moving again and this time, Connor is moving them along at a much faster pace.

 

“What about in the jeep?”

 

“No.”  Evan is adamant about his first blowjob experience being in a warm room with a bed.  Not in a tent, or in the back of a car, or against a tree. “After this first one.”

 

Connor snorts and squeezes his hand.  “You’re a big ol’ sap, aren't you?”

 

“This isn’t news.”  Did the path grow longer during their hike?  It feels like it, but then they round the last curve and there’s the parking lot and there’s the jeep next to two more cars.  

 

Surprisingly, Connor drives his normal ten over instead of racing as fast as he could.  When he comments on this, Connor just waggles his eyebrows and smirks before telling him that it's impossible to enjoy themselves if they're dead.  His hand rests on Evan’s knee like it always does and his thumb gently strokes as usual, but this time the touch is sending Evan spiraling, being driven mad with arousal and impatience.

 

By the time they park at the hotel and are walking to the lobby, his libido is being overridden with his anxiety at what he’s about to try.  He clenches his hand with the force of keeping his questions and worries inside until they’re alone and in private, but it’s hard when they’re burning away his desire.

 

As soon as the door closes behind them, Connor’s hands are on Evan’s shoulders, soothingly stroking away wrinkles and brushing at the nape of his neck comfortingly.  “We don’t have to, Ev.”

 

He wants to, though.  That’s the thing. “I just.  I’m worried.” He sits on the edge of the bed, his fingers finding each other and wringing together, pulling and tugging so the knuckles pop and crack.

 

“About what?”  Connor’s voice is warm and smooth like his touch and it’s relaxing Evan and easing his worries enough to voice them out loud.

 

“I might not be very good at it.”

 

Connor shrugs casually and Evan can almost believe him when he says, “that's okay.”

 

Emboldened, he continues down his list of worries.  “I might hate it.”

 

That is met with another shrug.  “And that's okay too. I won't ever make you do anything, Ev.”

 

And now for his true worry and it bursts from him in a rush if embarrassment.  “I...I might love it.” Which, is a silly worry because who worries about liking giving blowjobs?  Apparently he does.

 

Connor smirks now and runs his hands down Evan’s arms.  It’s nice, comforting. “You say this like it’s a problem.”

 

Except it could be a problem. “I have poor impulse control when it comes to things I love, you know this.”

 

“Again, this is a problem?”

 

It’s obvious Connor is missing the point and Evan sighs.  “You’ll probably have to buy stock in some extra moisturizing lotion.”  He spells out and giggles when Connor’s eyes widen comically.

 

“Oh!”  He looks so startled Evan kisses his nose and giggles again when he goes cross eyed for a moment.  “Chafing, I gotcha. I think I’ll manage. Take one for the team. Other metaphors. Um, point is, the Con Man is totally down.  Uh, for this. Yeah.”

 

Evan snorts.  “The...the ‘Con Man’.”  His giggles turn to full on chest heaving laughter at the very disgruntled look Connor aims in his direction.

 

“I’m nervous shut up.”  He retorts, ducking his head and hiding behind his curtain of hair.

 

Evan tsks and immediately sweeps the locks behind his ear and strokes at his shoulder a bit.  “Can, may I take off your shirt?”

 

They haven’t gotten fully naked, not since the shower.  The most they’ve stripped down to is taking off their pants, and never with the full purpose of what he’s about to do.   Connor nods, almost violently, and sits when directed and obediently holds his arms up for Evan.

 

He drinks in the pale skin as he exposes it and can’t help but kiss his way up his breast bone and up to suck lightly at his adam’s apple.  Connor is squirming under his touch and he feels so very powerful right now it's almost addicting. “How do you want...um, want to do this, Ev?”

 

He steps back to take off his own shirt and watches Connor slide his way up the bed to sit with his back against the headboard, his arms coming up to stretch and rest casually behind his head as a little pillow.  He looks so comfortable, so at ease, Evan wants to disturb it. He slips out of his sweater and stands fidgeting by the edge of the bed. “Lay down, or at least slide down.” He makes a motion that’s supposed to indicate what Connor is supposed to do and he’s relieved when Connor does exactly so.

 

Evan immediately slips onto the bed and unbuttons Connor’s pants.  “I guess I should’ve had you take them off first.” He says wryly as he watches his boyfriend shimmy out of his pants and toss them onto the floor.  

 

“Eh, that was fun.”  Connor doesn’t seem bothered so Evan lets it go for now.  He’ll probably think about it later tonight when he’s meant to be sleeping but right now, he has a glorious cock to examine.  He’s felt it against his own through their clothes, he’s even reached into Connor’s pants and touched it, but to actually have the chance to take his time...he’s going to savor this and take his time.

 

The first touch is nothing new, including the twist of pleasure that mars Connor’s face for just a moment.  Even when he moves his hand, and Connor moans oh-so-sweetly, it’s not something they haven’t experienced yet.  He’s biding his time, partially to work Connor up to a frenzy and partly to give himself time to gather the courage to begin for real.

 

Connor’s gasp is loud and startled when Evan suddenly bends and darts his tongue out to lick the tip of his dick.  The taste isn’t as bad as he had been lead to believe and wonders if precome tastes any different than cum and he licks at it again when he sees a bead of liquid welling.  It’s salty, tangy, yet a hint of sweet and its entirely Connor and well, he did try to warn Connor what could happen should he enjoy himself.

 

He decides his boyfriend has suffered long enough, and to be honest his own dick is throbbing and he’s barely started.  He licks the tip once more, savoring Connor’s moan and his little involuntary hip thrust, before slipping the tip into his mouth.  It’s spongy and hot and god he was right he loves this already and he _did warn Connor_ and Connor’s loud keening cries are music and addicting and he wants to hear nothing else for all of eternity.

 

Evan barely lasts a minute with Connor’s cock in his mouth, his release soaking through his briefs and beloved leggings.  Somehow, Connor makes it two and Evan decides that while decidedly more bitter and textured, he doesn’t all together hate jizz and wonders at the odd way it slips down his throat.

 

Later, when they’ve showered and cleaned after themselves, Evan takes the chance to think as he watches Connor finish his nightly routine.  He finally feels comfortable enough to call himself happy. Life is great at the moment. They’ve made some great memories, met some amazing friends, and he no longer wonders what Connor sees in him, at least not as often and when those thoughts do come up, he has a thousand memories that show him just what it is Connor loves about him.  

 

His last thought before falling asleep to the rising and falling of Connor’s breathing is that everything is just about perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: one of my best friend’s has a dog named Pepsi and she doesn’t even drink soda, let alone Pepsi so who the fuck knows on that one.
> 
> Everyone having fun yet?


	28. You Are Not Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 103  
> Dec 18
> 
> Today really shouldn't have come as such a shock.

### Connor

 

Connor wonders if dogs can trip as he watches Dante run frantic circles around the Jeep, kicking up dust as they wait for Evan to finish whatever it is he’s doing in the back.  Then he chastises himself for such thoughts because honestly, who thinks about tripping a dog? “Evan, what the fuck are you looking for?”

 

“My camera!”  Comes back his muffled voice and Connor groans.  Of fucking course.

 

“Haven’t we been here already?”  Why does he need to take more pictures of the same trees they saw earlier in the week?

 

He must have found it because when he replies, it’s after the back is closed up and he’s holding his hand out for his backpack which Connor relinquishes.  “Yes, but you never know what you might see. And if I want…” Here he stumbles a bit over his words and Connor squeezes his hand encouragingly. Evan smiles softly at him and nods to himself.  “If I want to be a famous photographer, I need to always be ready for the shot.”

 

“Finally made up your mind?”  Connor asks and Evan snorts.

 

“More like finally convinced the anxiety surrounding it to find something else to bother - at least for a little while.  It’s been very happy to worry about this phone call situation.”

 

Connor groans.  “Evan…”

 

“I know.”  He interrupts and now he’s frowning.  “I know, we agreed to stop worrying about it but it’s _just what I do Connor._ ”

 

He knows this, he knows yet he still feels a flash of irritation because he wants to be done bringing it up.  Before he can reply however, a voice calls out to them.

 

“Hey!”  They both look up from their argument to see a familiar man standing at the head of the trail.  Connor is nearly there in placing where he’s seen the man when he speaks up again. “You’re those kids I saw our last day in Yellowstone.”  

 

Now Connor remembers him.  “You’re the guy who gave us your campsite.”  The dreadlocks are a lot shorter than he remembers, but he’ll never forget just how perfectly built he had thought the man to be.  The man looks right at home in the forest and he wonders if he’s a vagabond or something.

 

The man smiles broadly, white teeth shining in the sea of chocolate skin, and re-introduces himself as Antoni.  “I’m relieved to see you’re doing okay. I’ve been a bit worried about you two.”

 

He feels his irritation flare suddenly.  This man had seen them for what, a half an hour?  How is he worried about them?

 

Luckily, Evan speaks up before he does. “We’re doing very well.”  He says softly and Antoni laughs merrily. It feels like claws up his back and he has a sinking suspicion what’s happening right now and he tries to remember what Jamie told him to do for these moments.

 

In for eight.

 

Hold for four.

 

Out for eight.

 

Hold for four.

 

Repeat.

 

It’s almost working when he hears Antoni say, “oh by the way.  You might want to check out the You Are Not Alone project online.  You kind of resemble the boys featured on the front page.”

 

He waves at them, seemingly unaware of the fact he has just shattered their reality, and continues on down the path out of sight.

 

“Connie.”  Evan’s appearance is as frantic as he sounds and his fingers are starting to grab at Connor’s jacket nervously and it’s jacking up his own nerves considerably.  “Connie, let me see the phone please.”

 

He hands it over without a single complaint.  His mind is so quiet right now it’s deafening and it’s terrifying him.  He doesn’t want to be the one to look at what could possibly spell out the beginning of the end for them.  He tries to go back to his metered breathing but it’s even more difficult to maintain than it had been before..

 

He can’t drown out Evan’s panicked mutterings and knows that what Antoni said is true.  There is a website. Evan only confirms it. “It’s called You Are Not Alone and apparently its a forum of a sorts.  For, for kids to find someone they can relate to? Or something? But why...why us?” Evan’s voice fades and all that’s left is the sound of both of their panicked breaths.

 

The website has them on it.

 

The phone call _had_ been Mark.  It had to have been.

 

Outside of Alana, people had noticed they were missing and had actually given a fuck and he doesn’t know what to do with this information and he can feel it drowning him.

 

“Evan…”  He whispers and his voice is low and rough and the other boy looks at him, movements jerky and he tries to explain what is happening, but he can’t manage it before his words are gone and he growls under his breath before shoving off into the woods, away from Evan away from the path away from anyone he could possibly hurt from the maelstrom he’s struggling to contain.

### Evan

It’s all his fault.

 

Perhaps if Evan hadn’t requested one last hike in among the redwoods before they meander their way up to Seattle, they would have remained ignorant.  If they had chosen a different trail head, perhaps they never would have found out about it all. Or perhaps it was merely a matter of time. These things have a way of catching up when one least expects it to, after all.

 

He’s never seen Connor like this, a torrential storm of pure rage and unbridled anger as he takes whatever he can find to wrench off the forest floor and hurl with a horrendous scream at a tree or a boulder or straight at the ground.  His face his red and lined with sweat from his exertion, and his eyes are bloodshot from the screaming and crying he’s been doing and while he knows he should be afraid of seeing such raw power and fury coming from the man he loves he’s also feeling the same rage inside and so he can’t judge him too harshly for his reaction.

 

Only, instead of anger and catapulting objects, he’s standing motionless save for the nearly always present vibration his anxiety causes.  He’s nearly hyperventilating, but not from Connor _never Connor_ and he hopes Connor knows that his current panic attack isn’t stemming from his boyfriend’s emotional outlet but rather what caused the need for it.

 

“Motherfuckers!”  Connor is screaming and his anxiety filters it so it sounds muddled, as though underwater.  He’s stopped throwing things for the moment, or so it seems, so Evan wills his legs to carry him to where his distressed boyfriend is collapsing into a little heap propped against a tree.  A twig snaps under his boot and Connor’s eyes fly up to meet his.

 

For a moment, Evan fears he’s about to be screamed at too, the look in Connor’s eyes is so wild and trapped and panicked but then some of that ebbs away to make room for the fond warm light that always shines when Connor looks at him and while it doesn’t take away the anger and the fear and the frustration, at least Evan knows now that Connor is okay with his presence and rushes to wrap his arms around him.

 

Sure, they’re on the forest floor, but right now Evan thinks that might be the very least of their troubles. Dante seems relieved the yelling and screaming is over and darts over from his hiding place to lick Connor’s tears.  The laugh that it causes is barely there and more of a huff, but it’s enough for Dante who contents himself with ingratiating himself into the huddle as best as he could.

 

He loses track of how long they huddle there but when his knees start to protest their position, he knows its time they at least move and he shifts so he can stand.  Dante whines but moves when Evan nudges him and Connor just grips tighter. “I need to stand up, Connie.” He whispers gently, rubbing his hands over his arms softly and soothingly.  “We need to go back to the jeep.”

 

Connor sighs but follows Evan to first standing and then back towards the path and the parking lot.  They walk in silence, save for the tags on Dante’s collar jingling, so the ping of a text on their phone sounds like a gunshot.

 

Connor nearly slams it into a rock but Evan somehow, against all odds snatches it out of the air. He looks immediately apologetic and listens as Evan reads the message from Levi out loud.  “Hey guys, saw this tree and thought of you.” The picture itself is of nothing spectacular, just a weird twisty little pine tree, but it’s the expression of surprise on Levi’s face in the corner of the photo that makes it amazing.  When he shows it to Connor, it brings a smile to his face.

 

As they approach the parking lot, Connor tugs a little on Evan’s hand.  “Do you mind…”

 

“I don’t mind driving.”  He says immediately and his grip on his boyfriend’s arm tightens.  Dante is doing his best to keep as close to Connor’s other side as he can and somehow, they make it back to the car.  “I’m going to suggest something you’re probably not going to like.”

 

“Can’t be worse than what I’ve already heard today.”  Connor slips into the passenger seat and Evan into the drivers while Dante makes his perch in his nest of blankets in the back.

 

Evan wants to laugh, it feels like it could be a joke, but he doesn’t.  Neither of them can handle laughter at the moment. “We need to find somewhere with free wifi and deal with emails and voicemails.”

 

The jeep is silent for a long moment and then to Evan’s surprise, he hears a small, “yeah” from Connor who then plugs away on his phone for the nearest Starbucks or McDonalds.  The directions take him to a Starbucks and after parking as far from the building as possible while still in decent range of the internet, Connor ducks into the building for some coffee and pastries while Evan sets up the laptop to call his father.

 

Unsurprisingly, he answers.

 

“Mark.”  He says evenly and Evan scowls.

 

“You know...you know I prefer Evan.”  He says, not expecting his father to care and true to form he doesn’t.

 

“Just tell me why you’re calling, Mark.”  Now he sounds exasperated and Evan feels a dark sense of satisfaction that he’s irritating the man whose made their lives suddenly a living hell.

 

He doesn’t allow himself to think, he just says what comes to mind.  “Stay the fuck out of my life. Stay the fuck out of Connor’s. Leave us alone.”

 

There’s a long silence and then a shorter sigh.  “Had you answered when I called a week ago, I would have told Alana no.”

 

Evan wants to scream.  First of all, he wouldn’t have and second of all, what the fuck does he mean by Alana?  Alana Beck?  Of course. And now he needs to also worry about Carson. “And the voicemail?” That’s been bothering him for awhile now and he needs to fucking know.

 

“You didn’t recognize Alisha?  Hmm, not surprised. She always was a jokester and you've never had a sense of humor.”  And of course it was his step mother. Why hadn't they thought of that as a possibility?

 

Evan doesn’t wait to listen to the rest of the string of insults and put downs he knows Mark Hansen will bestow and closes out of Skype with only a small twinge of guilt.  He slips into the back of the jeep to cuddle with Dante until Connor returns, fighting back the tears of hopelessness that want to overwhelm him.

### Connor

 

“Hot chocolate for both of us because we fucking need it and ginger bread loaf for each of us as well.”  He announces as he slips into the now vacant front seat and then turns to face Evan with a frown. “Oh, good there you are.  Here.” He thrusts out Evan’s meal who accepts it gingerly, trying to keep it out of reach of a now curious dog. “I’m gonna call Jamie now, unless you wanted to call your dad first.”

 

Evan shook his head.  “I already called him on the laptop.  He told Alana she could use our names for the site.”

 

Connor eyes his boyfriend carefully, checking for signs of outward expressions of distress, and scrutinizes his expression before he nods.  He had suspected as much by now and pushes Jamie’s contact and prays he’s not in class.  He's feeling a bit weighted down right now with his own stress, and he's really hoping the older college boy can help them.

 

Jamie picks up after three rings.  “Hey, what's wrong?”

 

It’s a fair question.  They barely text, and never call, so this is unusual enough for alarm.  It's suddenly easy for Connor to spill everything they’ve learned so far about the project and when he finally stops talking, Jamie hums.

 

“That’s shitty, man.”

 

“Thanks.”  Connor replies dryly, and Evan’s shoulder shake a bit at that.   _It_ is _shitty, thanks for noticing_ , the silently vibrating movement seems to say.

 

“What is it you need from me?”  Jamie, straight to the point. It’s something Connor really appreciates about him.

 

Evan's hand is warm and Dante's breath is hot in his face and it all works to help keep him grounded.  “Our plan was to go through Oregon up to Seattle, but now that we know about this…”  His voice trails off and Jamie sounds knowing through the phone.

 

“You want to know if it's okay to continue your plan or if you should deal with this first?”  He has a way of getting straight to the heart of a problem and it’s what Connor knows will make Jamie a great therapist once he’s done with school and he nods, relieved.  “Connor?”

 

He blushes, forgetting for a moment Jamie was on the phone and not on a video call or in the jeep with them.  “Sorry, I nodded. Yes. That’s, um. That’s it.”

 

“From what you told me when you were here, Seattle was _your_ ultimate destination.”

 

“Yeah.”  Connor mumbles and purposefully avoids Evan’s eyes for a moment.  He’ll be very disappointed if they don’t make it, especially when they’re this close, but he also doesn’t want Evan to make his decision because Connor looks like he’ll go ballistic if they _don’t_ because he _won’t_.  He won’t.  When he feels his expression is schooled enough, he glances over at Evan who is nodding along with him and he smiles a little at the sight.  “So what do you think?” He really worries about nothing sometimes, damn it.

 

“I say, if it were me, I’d take my time through Oregon and calm down from this.”  Jamie suggests firmly. “Go to Seattle, have some fun, and call me on the trip from Seattle to Rochester so we can make a plan of attack for how you’re going to approach your parents.  Taking an extra week to process everything isn’t going to change the fact the website is live, nor will ignoring your mental health make anything better.  Also, keep in mind that no matter where you leave from out there, you’re taking mountain passes or three extra days to avoid one so you might as well take the time to visit the places you still want to see.”

 

They chat for a bit longer, his anxiety and anger slowly ebbing away as Jamie reassures them that yes, they have every right to be upset about the situation and still take time for themselves and yes, he thinks that they should go to New York and talk to everyone in person.

 

The call ends and both boys sit in silence.  He feels numb and all that is running through his mind are Jamie’s words, trying to make sense of them.  It’s nearly ten minutes before Connor looks at Evan and says “I think we’re done running away, at the very least.”  Evan’s nod is a bit jerky and he looks down at the floor and Connor looks away again. He only hesitates a moment before leaning over and reaching into the glove box and pulling out the bag with their sim cards and phones.  Wordlessly, he hands Evan his, who immediately shoves the little card into the phone and turns it on.  “Should I come sit in the back and do this or you wanna come up here again?”

 

The look he’s given is fairly derisive.  “Where I am is far more comfortable.”

 

Evan isn't wrong.  Plus, Dante is too warm and inviting to ignore and he climbs into the back with his little family.  Evan is already in his email app and gasps, making a choked little cry when he starts scrolling through his emails and Connor pauses in opening his voice mailbox to see what is causing him distress.

 

The inbox is full of bolded, unread emails from a Heidi Hansen, Connor knows that’s his mother, and his eyes widen.  “What?”

 

“There’s one for every day!”  He’s gasping and his chest is heaving as he frantically takes the sidebar to the bottom of the page and clicks the first email.  Connor can’t tear his eyes away from the draining color in Evan’s face as he reads and his one hand tightens in Dante’s fur. “Connie...Connie, she noticed the first day.”  Evan sounds haunted, destroyed.

 

Connor feels sick.  His stomach is rolling, spinning, and sour  His own blood freezing, he scrolls through his own full inbox to the first message, which is unsurprisingly from Zoe, and pushes play.  Her very angry, tinny voice sounds through the front speakers and he feels like he's oozing out of his skin from his nerves.

 

_You goddamned fucking asshole, when did you steal my keys?  You’d better just be playing some sort of sick joke you bastard._

 

He honestly forgot he had left her at the school without a ride in order to take the trip.  He leans against Evan, Dante snoozing in front of them, and continues by reading the voicemail transcripts, unable to handle listening to his family scream at him.  The messages start as that, he can tell, and at least if he’s reading the words he can hear them in a monotone rather than bloodcurdling rage.

 

Evan is sobbing now as he’s scrolling through his phone, one hand pressed firmly to his mouth while the other holds the device.  His knees are drawn tightly to his chest and his entire body shudders against Connor’s  with each breath.

 

“Evan?”

 

Evan just shakes and shakes and Connor is helpless against the distress plaguing him because he’s suffering from his own demons.  But then Evan turns and latches to him and Connor instinctively wraps his arms around his boyfriend’s trembling form. “Shh, I got you.”  He whispers. “Do you just want to go straight back to New York?” He’ll skip Seattle. He’ll do it for Evan’s peace of mind.

 

But he shakes his head and sniffles loud enough Dante jumps.  “I’m just...I’m very overwhelmed.” Connor is amazed he can understand Evan with how quietly he’s slurring his words together.

 

“Me too, baby.”  His grasp tightens and he kisses the sweaty forehead tenderly.  He wants to rage again, he can feel his muscles jerk from the effort at not, because Evan needs him and he needs him calm, not explosive.

 

“Connie?”  Evan whimpers, fingers clutching and grasping at Connor’s shirt.  “Can we smoke?”

 

God, why didn’t he think of that earlier?  He’s barely reaching for his weed box when he remembers.  Oh right. He made a promise way back in the beginning to never drive high with Evan in the car and he’s not about to break it now.  “I can’t smoke with you, not until we’re stopped for the night.”

 

“Oh.” Evan seems genuinely sad, eyes darting away and a soft little sigh of disappointment escaping as he turns to look out the window.

 

He hates that look.  He also hates that Evan is about to be high when he himself isn’t, but he hates the dejected sad puppy look emanating from his boyfriend more.  “Smoke something, Ev, and I’ll smoke in Sisters.”

 

“Just the CBD, then.”  Evan argues and rummages slowly around in his backpack for his pen.  The motions are casual, but Connor can see through them to the almost frantic need for something to calm him. He reaches for his own pen.  It’s not the same as weed, but it’ll do until he can smoke it safely.

 

“ _Fuck_.”  Evan says suddenly, angrily, and Connor is so startled his head whips around in time to witness Evan slamming his fists into his eyes and bending down to scream into his pillow.

 

Connor feels his skin crawl with the sound.  It’s echoing in his eardrums like his own screams have done in the past and it’s eerie to think that his and Evan’s pain sounds the same when in his own head.  

 

“What are we going to do, Connor?”  Evan asks, voice a lot rougher than it was previously.

 

Connor can only stare helplessly back at him and shake his head as he draws the pen to his mouth to draw in a drag.  “I have no idea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof. It all comes to a head.
> 
> Boys head to Oregon next.


	29. Here Comes a Thought

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 104  
> Dec 19
> 
> Take a moment to think of just
> 
> Flexibility, love, and trust.  
> Take a moment to ask yourself if this is how we fall apart?  
> It's not, it's okay. You've got nothing to fear.   
> I'm here.  
> ~Here Comes a Thought, Rebecca Sugar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a lot longer because of how much of the chapter relies on the proper imagery and words are hard, yo.

###  Evan

 

Before he even opens his eyes, Evan knows today isn’t going to be any better than the day before.  He feels like Dante is sleeping on his chest but he also knows he isn’t because the smelly dog is laying at the foot of the bed on their feet so he knows that the weighty feeling is just his body’s reaction to his anxiety.  He wonders how long he’ll take today to roll in something gross.

 

They’re at a hotel in Sisters, Oregon and had driven straight there after waking up from a nap in the Starbucks parking lot.  As soon as they checked in, instead of heading out and about to do as Jamie had suggested, they had walked to a nearby park and in an isolated part of the park proceeded to get completely blazed.  

 

But that was last night, not today and today Evan is tired and groggy and all he wants is for his mind to  _ stop _ .  It doesn’t, of course, because why would it?  It’s less overwhelming imagery and more overbearing emotion but it’s all still rolling about in his mind and making his stomach hurt.

 

When he finally does open his eyes, he’s disappointed to see that the sky is still dark.  He looks over at the digital alarm clock that all hotels seem to have and sighs. Only 4 am.  It appears he has an unexpected few hours free to overthink. He just needs to decide now if he’s going to dwell on his relationship with Connor or on the project.

 

A loud snore followed by smacking lips and a turning body flopping an arm over him has Dante shuffling with irritated huffs and Evan biting his bottom lip to keep himself from laughing out loud.   His nose wrinkles at the sour morning breath now blowing in his face and he shifts around the sheet so it can act as a little wall in between their faces. 

 

Dwelling on his relationship it is.

 

Careful to not disturb the other boy’s sleep, he trails featherlight fingertips along the sharp angles that make up Connor’s cheeks.  He finds the angles and rough edges of his boyfriend to be handsome, beautiful even, and he seems to think Evan is as well if how often he’s touching and kissing various bits of Evan’s own face at random is any indication.  Which he really doesn't understand, but he also has learned not to argue with Connor when it comes to himself.

 

(Which reminds Evan of that conversation all those months ago about how Connor thinks Evan is interesting and he thinks he might now understand what Connor had been saying.  He thinks Connor is very interesting, too.)

 

They communicate really well in Evan’s opinion.  He is never afraid to ask for something from Connor, or to tell him something he might not like.  He’s proven to Evan that he’ll listen, even if he’s unhappy or angry, he’s at least paying attention to what it is Evan is doing or saying and that makes Evan feel so  _ right _ with Connor.  He hopes Connor feels the same way, he’s almost certain he does.  Connor comes to him with random facts, or questions that don’t make sense, or to just kiss him simply because, and one doesn’t do things like that unless one feel deeply about the other, right?

 

His boyfriend also seems to have made it his personal life goal to make sure Evan is happy which is just, amazing to put it in a single word.  His mom would try to make him happy, but the only thing he ever really needed was someone to make him feel like he matters, and when she chooses overtime over him, well.  What is he supposed to think?

 

He scowls at the mental question and turns so that his back is against Connor’s chest and holds onto the arm slung around him.  It tightens and Connor mumbles into the back of his neck as he curls around Evan and he allows it because he needs the warmth to chase away the chill of his demons, of his poisonous thoughts.

 

Soon all that’s left is the ever-present hum of nervous energy that keeps him from sleeping or wakes him up after never enough sleep and he sighs.  He hates his anxiety, but at least he’s used to his normal levels and can function relatively well compared to the anxiety from the last few days. At least this time he has a full picture of what is causing the heightened levels of stress, usually he has no clue and has to muddle through blindly.

 

He closes his eyes and allows his breathing to fall in sync with Connor.  It helps calm him, even faster than his own metered breathing exercises, and he thinks it’s probably because of Connor.  He won’t fall back asleep, he never does, but he’s warm and at least a little content despite everything and that’s all that matters to him right now.

 

Just as he’s being soothed into a state of calm he rarely achieves, Dante suddenly hops off the bed and whines at the door and he glances at the clock.  5 am now. He sighs again before sliding away from the warmth of his boyfriend and away to take care of the dog.

 

Maybe he’ll take a walk.

 

###  Connor

 

Evan’s side of the bed is cold and Connor nearly launches out of the bed, instantly panicked and worried because it’s quiet and still and ever since Dante, their lives are never fully quiet.  The alarm clock reads 6:30 and he wonders if the dead silence in the room is what woke him up. He whirls as he takes stock of his surroundings and relaxes a bit as he notices the bits that are Evan’s personality are still in the room, though the leash is missing from where Connor had left it hanging on the door knob.  His boyfriend and Dante are still not present, but now he’s pretty sure they’re out walking instead of vanished.

 

He shuffles into the bathroom and flips the shower on to warm while he brushes his teeth and examine his face carefully for any pimples that might have appeared overnight and is relieved to see none have.  Maybe he’s finally leaving behind the curse of teenage acne. He swishes and spits and sighs and decides he’s awake, he might as well ready for the day.

 

He takes off his flannel pajama pants and is about to step into the shower when he hears their hotel room door open and Dante’s collar jingle as he passes the bathroom, presumably looking for his water dish.  He hears the distinct sound of lapping just before a knock sounds at the door and he snickers a little that Evan still thinks he needs to knock. “Wanna join me?” He calls out and the door opens to reveal his very tired boyfriend.  There are dark bags under his eyes and his mouth seems to be being dragged downwards at the corners and his normally expressive eyes are almost vacant in their stare.

 

Connor frowns and beckons Evan towards him.  He’s very concerned with the state the other boy is in.  “Baby, did you not sleep?” The endearment slips out in his worry and thankfully, Evan doesn’t react other than a slow shrug.

 

He slips into the bathroom, careful to keep as much of the steam contained inside as possible. He immediately moves into Connor’s embrace with a soft exhale that tickles the light hairs on Connor’s chest.  “Finally fell asleep at 2. I woke up at 4.” 

 

“Ouch.”  He knows the pain of only getting a couple of hours of sleep.  He gently presses a kiss to the dark blond hair. “Shower with me and I’ll keep you from falling down.”

 

Finally, Evan laughs - half hearted it may sound - and steps back to strip down.  Connor’s eyes hungrily takes in each new patch of exposed skin with eager anticipation, enjoying Evan’s creeping flush he’s not sure is embarrassment or arousal or both.  “Thanks, Connie.”

 

“Any time.”  He says and pulls the curtain back to help usher Evan under the spray.  “I want to blow you, but I also don’t want you to die in the shower.”

 

Hot puffs of laughter burst against his neck as Evan leans against him and he takes no time in lathering up a washcloth and running it gently along Evan’s back.  “You’re so wonderful and thoughtful.” Evan whispers as he gently works the shampoo into the brown locks that fall just under Connor’s shoulder blades. 

 

He shakes his head and gently slides the cloth down over the curve of Evan’s ass and barely resists the urge to slap it.  They should discuss boundaries soon before he does something that makes Evan too uncomfortable. He gives it a little shake instead, admiring the way it jiggles in his hand and sighs.  “I’m not, not really.” He moves his hand to help rinse the shampoo out of his hair.

 

Evan starts in on the conditioner once the bubbles are gone.  “You are.” Luckily, Evan sounds amused and not irritated that Connor keeps arguing and he grins into Evan’s neck.  “And I love you.”

 

“Just to you.”  He admits and Evan laughs again and takes the cloth from Connor to return the favor.  He takes the moment to lather up Evan’s hair and uses circular swirling motions to massage his scalp and a low groan rumbles from Evan’s chest.  “Because I love  _ you _ .”

 

“I’ll take it.”  Evan murmurs and Connor can’t help but kiss him now.  He pushes against Evan’s 

groin, curious and a little interested, but the other boy just shakes his head.  “Too tired.”

 

He’s not lying.  His dick barely twitches against Connor’s and his shoulders lift in a casual shrug.  He has the same issues sometimes with his own libido and just presses a chaste kiss to Evan’s temple.  It was only a passing interest, anyway. “Later then.”

 

Evan’s nod is accompanied by a thankful half smile and turns the water off.  They take turns gently drying the other’s skin, and Connor takes to kissing up patches of dry skin as he swipes over it, unable to help himself.  He needs the reassurance that Evan is still here after his brief fright just after waking and what better way than touch?

 

“I found an article on my walk.”  Evan says once they’re dressed and on their way to find the continental breakfast.  He still looks and sounds exhausted, but the shower had helped him a little. Maybe Connor will casually suggest a nap later.  “There’s a photo contest for a science magazine. They need pictures of trees and the winner of the contest will have their winning entry be the front cover for that month.”

 

He thinks, not for the first time, on Evan’s incredible luck at times and he beams and pulls Evan to him in a side hug.  He’s impressed his socially anxious boyfriend is even considering the contest in the first place, let alone telling him about it when he knows Connor will just convince him to do it regardless of Evan’s nerves.  “Which one are you going to send in?”

 

“That’s the thing.”  Evan’s reply is filled with frustration as they turn down the hall.  Connor can hear a microwave and hopes they’re headed in the right direction.  “I have so many I love and you’re only allowed one submission.” 

 

It’s a sentiment he knows well.  It would be like choosing his favorite of his paintings.  “We’ll look together after breakfast.” He tries to keep his tone soothing and is fairly certain he succeeds when Evan leans his head on his shoulder briefly and squeezes his hand.  “And then…” Here he pauses dramatically and Evan arches a brow at him as if to say  _ yes and _ ?  “...you’ll win.”  Evan snorts at his bold declaration and he scowls.  “You will!”

 

“You don’t know that, Connie.”  His boyfriend sounds entirely too amused for his own good now and he doesn’t appreciate it. 

 

He hunches his shoulders and his mouth droops into a little petulant pout.  “Well I think you should win.” A soft kiss on his cheek accompanied by the sweetest little upturn of a smile has him flushing and hiding a grin of his own.

 

###  Evan

 

Even after being in the forest for half the day, which usually feels like the most soothing of balms on his soul, doesn’t seem to take away any of the hopeless worry that surrounds the idea of the You Are Not Alone website.  The weight on his chest from the early morning has only migrated into a swarm of angry hornets residing in his stomach and chest cavity, though he is able to sometimes ignore the crawling his skin is making with every step, every breath, every single tiny  _ noise _ .  It’s all working together to help keep his anxiety at a level he can never seem to manage to get out of on his own and he hates it, he hates that his anxiety can still do this to him despite all his progress.

 

He rubs at his thighs as they walk and wishes he had worn a pair of his leggings today, but both have been rendered unwearable until washed again due to over excitement during blowjobs the last two wearings.  His jeans feel like they are pulling at every single hair on his leg, making his face twitch with every single step. The overstimulation is making him want to rip his hair out or find a wall and slam his head into it until the buzzing inside his brain stops but he also knows that not only does that method not work, he also suffers terrible migraines for days after and the last time he had even managed a hairline fracture in his skull.

 

That was the day his outpatient therapy turned into inpatient therapy.  The suicide attempt had already been taking it that way, at least in conversation, but his panic attacks in the days that followed only shoved him onto the fast track into intense therapy.  He doesn’t need to think on that right now though. He has enough to worry about without adding the emotions of eighth grade into the mix.

 

“Ev.”  A touch on his back accompanies the soft cajoling of his name and he turns to see Connor giving him a look that tells him this is not the first time he’s called Evan’s name.  “You okay?” Connor is wiping away his tears with the cuffs of his sweater sleeves before Evan is even aware he’s crying. “Apparently not.” He hears before he finds himself being yanked into a hug.

 

The effect is immediate.  The peace he had been hoping to find like he always does among the trees comes as soon as his body registers the warm body against his and he brings his hands up, fisting them into the back of Connor’s jacket and breaths in, hoping the scent will help to ground him even quicker.  His legs are still burning wherever the dark wash jeans are touching the skin, but at least he doesn’t feel like he’s going to completely fall apart at the seams now.

 

He finds it a little interesting that the forest is not the safe refuge it always has been for him.  No, that’s incorrect. It’s still a safe, comforting oasis in his stress, yes. But somehow, his mind seeks a person for refuge now, and Evan’s not sure when that happened.   “No, I’m okay.” He says, trying to sound reassuring through his tears. The tears aren’t sad, not any more, but they aren’t really happy either. He grips Connor’s hand tightly, almost so his fingers turn white, but now he finally feels he can shelve the Motherfucking Invasive Project as Connor’s dubbed it and focus on enjoying the walk.

 

Dante is trotting along with the largest stick he can fit in his mouth, tail wagging so hard Evan wonders if it might just fly off and be lost forever in the woods or if it would sprout wings and fly away like a bird and then snorts at the mental image that thought conjures up.

 

“What?”  Connor huffs and Evan purses his lips in amusement and explains his mental imagery and grins when Connor bursts out laughing, the sound echoing off the trees around them and filling Evan with an intense, strange sort of joy that leaves him feeling rather tingly and warm and suddenly very very ready for  _ more _ but he tamps it down because now wasn’t the time for his libido to wake up.  It’ll need to wait until they’re back at the hotel and they plan on staying out until sunset.  They need the distraction still, and Dante hasn’t slowed down in the slightest despite his constant hyperactive movement.

 

###  Connor

He’s thankful that around lunch, his boyfriend had bundled him up in the back of the jeep and forced him to lay down and rest, insisting that sleep is the best medicine and if he couldn’t manage it, at least resting is nice.  He had been planning to do the same to Evan, so it had worked nicely out for both of them.

 

Now, Evan is driving them back to the hotel so Connor can relax.  He’s impressed at how comfortable Evan is now at least driving along the side roads and rural highways where traffic is less intimidating, and takes advantage of it as often as he can.  He’s watching the lines of trees fly past in a blur and is hit with the unquenchable desire to bring the forest to them, even as they drive along at night.

 

The window is nearly silent as it descends. The sound the lever makes when he releases it makes a far louder snap and he snorts when Evan startles just a hair from the noise.  He knows it's cold outside, he's very aware of this fact, but the night sky is also very clear and he wants to commit it to memory so he can paint it later.

 

Cold, fresh scent of the evergreen forest floods his senses when he breathes in and leans back to prop his boots up on the dash so his knees are bent and he can tilt his head out the window.  His mouth curls into a smirk when Evan reaches to the heater dials and cranks them both up to full blast. A line of white light streaks across the sky and his eyes trail the path as it carves its way through the night.  “Hey, Ev. Shooting star. Make a wish.”

 

Evan must have given it a brief glance because he replies with, “that’s a satellite, Connor.”

 

“Whatever.”  He shrugs casually and keeps watching the line of white slowly move.  A much faster streak has him giving a tiny gasp of surprise. “Oh!” He’s never seen a shooting star before, and now that he’s pretty sure he just did, he recognizes the much slower moving dot as the satellite now.  “You think they ever collide?”

 

“What?”

 

“Satellites and shooting stars.”

 

A tiny wrinkle forms between Evan’s eyebrows and he opens his mouth like he’s going to argue.  Then he seems to think better, because he bites his lip and blinks before a warm smile starts to stretch his face and he giggles and Connor feels his own mouth move upward in response.  The tires make soft rumbles as they move rapidly over the winding pavement back towards the hotel, and they sit in companionable silence, both still grinning like idiots.

 

The unease and anxiety surrounding the Motherfucking Invasive Project is still present, but has definitely lessened over the course of the day.  He’s not that surprised that this has happened, now that he’s had a chance to calm and muse over the whole situation. They had only been deluding themselves that they could escape their previous lives without notice.  He wishes they could pretend they never saw the site. He can’t, he knows he can’t, but he desperately wants to. He doesn’t want the trip to end, he wanted to find a place to settle away from New York, away from his parents, away from everything that reminded him of his failures.

 

Failure to be an obedient son.

 

Failure to be a protective big brother.

 

Failure to escape.

 

He supposes he could just ignore it all, but he knows Evan can’t and he won’t just abandon his boyfriend like that.

 

He looks again over at Evan who is tapping his fingers on the steering wheel along with his quiet indie music, bobbing his head back and forth and humming, completely lost in his own mind.  Connor can feel the stupid sappy smile form that always likes to show up whenever he thinks about his boyfriend. God, he fucking adores Evan Hansen.

 

He’s unabashed in this moment, face alight with peaceful happiness as he hums and sings and head-dances and Connor finds him breathtakingly beautiful with the soft glow of the dash casting dancing shadows and the deep night sky with it’s scattering of stars and the forest and…

 

Everything sort of fades to a buzz when Evan takes a hand off the wheel and places it on his leg.  Not where it usually rests, down by his knee, but up higher on his thigh. His breath catches and he stares at Evan, who appears completely unaware of just where his hand is resting as he continues to watch the road.  The hand remains there, light and hot and burning through his jeans, even as they drive into Sisters and Evan is needing to stop at lights and change lanes and make turns. 

 

They park right in front of the door to their side of the hotel and Evan turns off the Jeep, his hand still on Connor’s leg.  When the car shuts off, they are cast into darkness save for the parking lot lights streaming through. They remain there, motionless, Connor waiting for Evan and Evan waiting for...only god knows what because he isn’t moving, Connor isn’t sure if he’s breathing at this point and he’s starting to become a tad bit worried.

 

But then Evan does move.

 

And Connor’s breathing stutters to a halt for just a brief moment because his hand moves up his thigh, purposefully, with direction and he whips his head around to see Evan already has eyes trained on him, so intense he nearly combusts and in that moment, nothing else matters but Evan and a firm hand on his leg and hazel eyes fixed on blue.  The lazy heat swirling low in his pelvis ignites and he  _ knows _ Evan can feel him harden because his fingertips are brushing at his cock, that’s how high up his hand is on his thigh.

 

He has to say something, before he loses himself into the moment and can’t get out.  “Evvie?” His voice cracks and Evan’s little half smile blooms into a bashful smile. He feels relief so strong it’s almost ice.  But he needs the words, he needs to hear it for himself, because he won’t act on an assumption. Not about this.

 

“Connie.”

 

He rolls his eyes at the single word answer.  “Inside?” He’s oddly disappointed when Evan nods and Connor mourns the loss of the hand when Evan takes the key out of the ignition and slips out of the car.  He follows and clicks his tongue for Dante to follow and he does, salt and pepper tail wagging lightly. He’s tired, too. It’s been a long day for all of them, and Connor resigns himself to masturbating in the shower.  After this morning’s lack of response, and now this right now tonight, Connor isn’t about to push it with his boyfriend’s libido. He wants more, sure, but only when Evan’s fully into it as well, and for all he knows Evan hadn’t popped even a half boner even nearly fondling Connor’s dick.

 

Maybe that’s all the thigh touching and the heated look was, a test for Evan to see if he had gotten back his drive for sexual activities.  Maybe the answer was he hadn’t and Evan didn’t want Connon to be disappointed. “You’re thinking too much again.” Evan’s voice breaks through and he grimaces a bit at the words.

 

“It’s what I do.”  He retorts playfully and Evan snorts.  He opens the door and ushers Evan in first, and Dante pushes past them both and practically collapses into his dog bed and Connor chuckles a little at the image the dog makes.  “Shower and then bed”? He asks as he turns to address Evan.

 

He stops in his tracks when he sees his boyfriend.  The heated look is back, and it’s even more intent with the soft hotel lighting and warm atmosphere and then Evan is kissing him, he’s kissing him for all he’s worth and god he hopes this is going where he thinks it is but in the end, he doesn’t care where this leads.  

 

Just so long as he gets a turn to blow Evan for once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is just sex. That’s all. I wanted to keep it separate just in case someone wanted to avoid it.


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 104  
> Dec 19
> 
> He’s going to do it. Tonight. At least, he wants to. He’s not sure yet if Connor is on board with going further, but if he is, then yes. He is going to have sex tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I’m going to apologize for making the longest chapter in the entire novel entirely sex. I’m so sorry. 
> 
> Second, reminder that yes the entire thing is pretty much just sex. Like, if you don’t like sex, don’t read it. You’ll miss nothing in terms of main plot, except as always there is personal and relationship development so you risk missing that. I worked hard to keep it flowing yet showcase both boys emotions and feelings etc so I hope I succeeded. Hard for me to tell, sometimes.

### Evan

 

Evan is amazed at just how far away his anxiety feels right now as he pulls back from the kiss, breath high in his chest and far more rapid than he’s normally comfortable with.  He’d been trying to bring it up the entire car ride back to the hotel but the words simply wouldn’t come. They don’t want to come out now, either, but Evan isn’t giving them a choice.  Because he wants to have sex, he wants it more than he’s ever wanted anything, and even if Connor says he’s not ready yet, this is a chance he is willing and wanting to take because he knows sex or no sex, Connor loves him and sure, he’ll be disappointed he’s not having sex tonight, but he is definitely willing to wait for Connor to want it, too.

 

But he’s getting ahead of himself. Jamie told him he needs to stop doing that, he needs to stop thinking so far ahead because there isn’t a way to know how the future will truly play out and he’s only wasting his time and energy preparing for an outcome that will be impossible and he’d rather be using this time to be showering affection all over his boyfriend, so maybe he should ask already.

 

“I want to have sex.”

 

 _Good, that was nearly intelligible Evan.  You almost put verbal spaces between the words._  But surprisingly, there is not a single repeated word in place despite his deep rooted nerves.  He’s actually very proud of himself for this one.

 

It seems Connor can understand the run on sentence just fine because the normally pale skin pinks instantly, and a smug little feeling of pride wells up at the sight of his very visibly flustered boyfriend.  “Me too.” Connor says tightly and his hands are shaking when he touches Evan’s cheeks with his fingertips and every ounce of nervous tension he had felt at bringing the topic up vanishes, leaving behind only a raw sense of broad emotion he has no hope of detangling.

 

The overwhelming feeling renders him unable to reply verbally as it so often does, and so he responds the only other way he can: physically.  He strokes along the curves and edges of Connor’s face, peppering little kisses along after his fingers, until he can feel his boyfriend quivering under his touch.  He feels...powerful.

 

Especially when Connor sounds like _that_ .  “Evan, Evan _please_.”  Breathy and begging is suddenly Evan's favorite combination of Connor's many tones of speech.

 

“Please what?”  He can’t understand where _this_ side of him is coming from, but he’s in love and a little horny and he’s feeling a bit playful on top of it all, and Connor now is giving him one of his exasperated looks so it is completely worth it all.

 

But Connor isn’t one to play games, not when he really desperately wants something, and Evan knows this.  He probably should have expected the sudden way his boyfriend lunges and grabs him hard enough he thinks there might be bruises around his ribcage tomorrow, if not at least red marks, but he doesn’t care because he’s being pulled flush to a bare chest and kissed like a dying man come to water.  He feels wanted, _so desperately wanted_ , and something in the way Connor’s lips move frantically against his tells Evan that maybe it’s time to move this along now before Evan loses the little bit of control Connor is relinquishing because he knows his boyfriend, he knows how hard it is for him to allow someone else to lead him because it feels too close to manipulation to him.

 

Their next kiss is the deepest they’ve shared yet, full of want and promise from each of them, Connor threading his hand through the longer hair on the top of his head, scraping his nails along the scalp in a way that makes Evan roll his eyes back and he has to pull the reins on his raging libido.  The myriad of sensations is taking his breath away and he’s faintly aware that he’s panting and whimpering. He wants to be in charge right now, and he never wants to be in charge, so he’s taking full advantage of it. He bought lube and condoms their last trip to the grocery store in preparation for one day being ready for today, though he couldn’t have know that today was the day the sentiment is the same.  Besides, it’s not like he doesn’t want the same things Connor is silently begging for in the way his hips are stuttering against Evan’s, and the way every muscle seems to be twitching and trembling and Evan is surprised at how out of breath Connor is compared to him.

 

It feels odd to be the calm one in a new situation, but all he feels right now is desire and want and lust and the anxiety can’t break through it.  He pulls away from where Connor’s tongue is tracing delicate patterns in his mouth and turns his head when Connor goes to chase him down so he can catch his breath.  Evan is fairly certain Connor has no idea just how wanton he sounds with his mewling gasps and Evan bites his lip, closing his eyes against the ravaging heat each sound drives through him.

 

He’s throbbing so hard in his jeans he physically aches.

 

He eyes Connor carefully, checking for any signs of distress or any sort of clue that he doesn’t want Evan do be doing these sorts of things to him because yes he trusts and loves Connor but there will always be a small part of him that will tell him no one cares about him which means that Connor is only humoring Evan and his affection.

 

Connor’s cheeks are splotched red and his pupils are nearly drowning out the blue in his eyes.  His thick cock is hot against Evan’s, even through two layers of dark wash jeans, though it could just be his mind supplying the pulsing and twitching heat against his own and Evan nearly sags in relief, instead nibbling a little around the outer shell of Connor’s ear.

 

He’s rewarded with a jerk of the hips and the most heady moan he’s heard from his boyfriend yet.  Apparently he’s found Connor’s kink. Or, at least one of them.

 

“I've never done this before.”  Connor breathlessly presses kisses down the length of Evan’s neck and he shivers briefly, chills forming wherever rough lips touch his skin.  “Outside of what we’ve done already.”

 

Which only consists of two naked showers, one of which he was too tired to barely move let alone perform any sort of sexual activity, as well as the handful of blowjobs he’s managed to give and messy makeouts.  He supposes it’s more than some people his age have had, and he’s always been convinced he’ll die a virgin. Besides, he’s a teenage boy. He’s done enough research to know what he likes, even if he didn’t ever think he’d use any of it.  

 

And now he’s wondering if any other teenager _researches_ and he doesn’t mean the word as a euphemism for watching porn.  There were diagrams and charts and informational books.

 

Evan reminds himself that he’s supposed to be in a moment right now and tugs on Connor’s hand, giving him a little peck on the cheek.  He feels cute at the action, and hopes he’s not being silly. “You think I have either? I just know how to use Google.” He tugs again when Connor doesn’t move, he’s just standing there staring at him with a tilted head and crinkles at each corner of his eye as a result of his very faint smile.  The tug brings him out of whatever sort of slump he’s in and the faint smile turns to one of brilliant happiness.

 

“I want to blow you, Ev.”  Connor says firmly, decisively, and Evan flushes and covers his face with his hands to hide his sudden embarrassment.  He’s managed to come before Connor could even touch him every single time he’s given Connor a blowjob, and it isn’t his fault he has a Pavlov like reaction to the sounds Connor makes whenever Evan swallows.  He can’t imagine that it’s normal to enjoy the taste as much as he does.

 

He’s glad Connor can’t see his face when he admits almost low enough even he can barely hear himself, “and I want to fuck you.”  Apparently, Connor is very much on board with this because typically it’s Evan making those high pitched, uncontrollable whines and the very idea that he’s driving Connor to lustful madness is _thrilling_.

 

“Me too, Ev.  Me too.” Each word comes out breathier as Connor tugs on the bottom hem of Evan’s shirt and he follows the silent request to remove the article of clothing.  “I want everything.”

 

Fuck.  He’s nearly yanking at Connor’s shirt while being prodded down onto the bed, whimpering out a “oh god Connie” before Connor is back at his mouth and lapping his way in until Evan is a white hum of ignited nerve endings and fire and he feels like he’s bursting out of his skin and that he’s collapsing inward all at the same time and all Connor is doing is kissing him and stroking the dips in his hip bones how the hell is he going to survive Connor's mouth on his dick?

 

### Connor

 

He’s dreaming.  He must be, because the vision Evan makes is all his dreams have consisted of of late.  But he knows he isn’t this time because even in his most vivid dreams he can’t taste the salt of Evan’s skin, he can’t smell the heady aroma of arousal as he kisses down the pale stomach, eager to finally finally achieve the one thing he’s been waiting days for.  Evan is breathing so rapidly it's a wonder he’s not full on hyperventilating, and each exhale is a high pitched whine and Connor can barely stand it.

 

He makes quick work of first the button followed by the long zip, and Evan groans as the pressure on his erection is released.  “Lift your hips, Baby.” Connor whispers and Evan complies, legs shaking violently from the strain and maybe even his arousal because Connor can see how hard Evan already is and loves the way his hands clench at the bed sheets.  Connor hurriedly drags the pants and boxers over the curve of Evan’s arse and taps at him to let him drop down, tugging the clothing off the rest of the way as Evan collapses back to the bed, cock bouncing as he does.

 

Connor starts his explorations at his ankles, determined to take his time now that he has this chance.  He’s never looked this closely at Evan’s skin and he’s entranced by just how smooth it is under his touch.  He presses a kiss to the knobby ankle bone and Evan hums contentedly. Which is nice of course, but not Connor’s desired state he wants to see his boyfriend in right now.  So he moves up along the calf, the fine blond hairs tickling his nose as he rubs along it, ghosting the flexing muscle with light pecks and pausing occasionally to give the skin a little nip, testing the waters a bit on just how much pain he could get away with inflicting before being asked to stop.

 

Does that make him a bad person?  He doesn’t think so, but then again he’s never talked to anyone about it so maybe he is?  But he has no time to overthink because Evan groans deep in his chest, and when Connor looks up he sees that Evan has his face screwed completely shut, as if holding himself back with great restraint.  “Evan, you need to relax.” He says, running his hands over his legs and hips and arms, hoping to help him do just that.

 

The other boy gasps and his entire body shudders when his face opens and he stares directly into Connor’s eyes, wide and wild and so very turned on and _jesus fucking christ he has precum dripping down his dick_.  He wants to lick it off, except he isn’t done with his current fixation with Evan’s legs.  “I’ll come!” Evan cries, tensing his entire body again just as Connor starts to press kisses to the faint freckles that dot his thighs.  “If I relax, I’ll come and I can’t come I don’t want to come not yet.”

 

“So come.”  Connor shrugs.  They’re teenagers, Evan can be ready again in like ten minutes and even if not, well, he can wait.  Again. His words must have an effect because Evan suddenly grabs at the base of his dick and grimaces.

 

 _“Connie_.”  His name is drawn out and thready and it is so fucking hot.  He’s completely unapologetic, though maybe he actually is a little bit because he really doesn’t want Evan to come, not quite yet, because he hasn’t even touched his cock let alone put it in his mouth so maybe he should chill a moment.  It takes monumental effort to draw back a little so he has nothing touching Evan physically, though he continues to hover over him, propped up on his arms.

 

It seems to work.  Evan is visibly calming a little and once he feels it’s safe enough to touch Evan without his cock exploding, he returns to his ministrations along the pale skin of his left thigh, though this time he moves along with purpose.  Each kiss brings a higher and higher breathy _please, please_ that seems to burst from Evan with each throb of his own heartbeat.

 

There is a pool of precome forming in the hairs around Evan’s dick and the entire thing jumps when he strokes along it with a fingernail.  All he has to go on is what he likes when he’s jerking it or when Evan is sucking him off, and hopefully Evan will tell him if something is or isn’t working.

 

Well, at least if it isn’t working.  It’s very apparent when something Connor is doing is _working_ for Evan.  Christ, he’s responsive as as fuck.  When his finger catches against a wrinkle of skin near the head, he can’t help the smile at the keening _Connie_ Evan gives out, drinking in the sight of his boyfriend, pale skin flushed with red splotches and blooming with little hickies and when Evan’s eyes meet his, he licks a stripe up his cock, cleaning one stream of precum as he does so, and gages his boyfriend’s reaction.

 

Evan’s wailing cry is so loud, he hopes no one is in the rooms next to theirs and he has to forcibly remove the thought of his own aching erection because this moment right now is about his boyfriend, not him.  The taste is alright, he doesn’t hate it, but he also doesn’t think he’ll fall into eager abandon about it like Evan does. Though he hasn’t even gotten to the main event, so he needs to stop his snap judgements and get to work.

 

“Oh god oh god oh god _oh god._ ”  A very good sign that his completely inexperienced self is doing something correctly when he closes his mouth around the tip and flattens his tongue like he’s felt Evan do to him.  He bobs a little and is almost immediately met with a mouthful of extremely hot and bitter liquid and he can’t help but spit it onto the bed.

 

“Little warning next time, Ev?”  He asks, the bitter taste on his tongue making him wish he had a glass of water right now.  He can’t imagine what on earth Evan likes about the taste. The precome was okay, plus he couldn’t even taste it once he started sucking, but come itself was a no go for him.

 

“Sorry!  Oh god, I’m so sorry.”  Evan is even redder than he was before and Connor feels his heart ache at the pleading apologies still stuttering from his boyfriend and he immediately shushes him.

 

“I told you to come.”  He reminds the other boy before kissing the dip under his ear and Evan’s breath hitches at the action.  “Just warn me next time so I can pull off. I don’t like the taste like you do.” Yeah, it might be a while before Evan desensitizes enough for blowjobs.  Either that, or he’ll just have to learn to like the taste of jizz because he thinks he might like the actual act of giving a blowjob, so he’ll do what he needs he supposes.

 

Evan’s face turns even more apologetic but he doesn’t repeat the word and Connor considers that to be considerable progress.  “Now what?” Evan asks instead and Connor beams at him.

 

“Now we get to have some fun.”  His nerves thrum with nervous excitement when Evan responds to his exploratory kiss eagerly, firmly, and Connor knows Evan is going to have absolutely no trouble with his refractory period when he feels the flaccid member give a little twitch when he strokes Evan’s tongue _just so_ with his own.

### Evan

 

Connor is extremely precious, someone he loves so much, and the fact that he’s touching and kissing Evan like he can’t bear to do anything else does wonders for his self esteem.  His hands are trembling at Connor’s hips and he’s not sure he can manage anything else but hold on right now and he’s a little disappointed he’s not more held together because he still wants to fuck Connor, he does, but he’s already come and he’s not sure why Connor thinks it was such a good idea because he won’t get to...

 

“ _Shit!”_  Evan hisses when he feels a fingernail tweek at a nipple and it’s like it has a direct line connected to his dick because when Connor does it again, this time to the other side, he’s now fully hard and ready to go and he just came not five minutes ago.

 

“Found your kink.”  Connor smirks and Evan slaps his arm.  He hates that Connor said it _out loud_ when Evan had kept it inside his head and he hates more that they both thought of the same fucking joke.

 

“You’re gross.”  He retorts breathlessly as Connor bites at the underside of his jaw before kissing his Adam’s apple.

 

“You’re the one who likes it.”  He says back and Evan has no time to respond because Connor has both of his nipples in his grasp, each just lightly held between a thumb and forefinger, and he’s quivering in anticipation and desire and _god he wants Connor to do something already_ and then he does, he moves his fingers in an ever-so-slight roll that has him arching off the bed like he’s been hit with sudden electricity, keening and writhing and helpless and _Connor barely moved his fingers_.  “Oh fuck, _Evvie_.”

 

Connor sounds absolutely entranced and it does nothing to help Evan with his own plight.  He is hyper-focused on the fingers motionless his chest and silenting willing them to move.  He’s letting out little whimpering grunts that are closer to gasps and pushing his chest ever so slightly against the very still digits until he feels Connor give a little start next to him.  He’s already looking at Connor so he sees the exact moment his boyfriend comes back to awareness and makes eye contact with him and any sort of restraint that might have been holding him back at all is gone the instant he sees Connor smirk.

 

He knows whoever is in the rooms above, below, or next to them can probably hear his hitching, escalating moans, but at the moment he doesn’t give a flying fuck because goddamn he has no time to adjust or breath.  The very light, brief touch that Connor had done before has changed into a constant rolling between his fingers and his dick throbs with each tug Connor’s fingers make.

 

Writhing and undulating, he’s thrusting at air, desperate for some relief again already and he can’t believe the sounds that are bursting out of him.  It only seems to be encouraging Connor and Evan doesn’t know how he is already this far gone again this soon. He needs to fuck Connor now, before he’s past the point of no return and comes before he even gets inside him.  He doubts even his late teenage self can get it up a third time.

  
“Enough, enough.”  He pushes at Connor’s hands who immediately backs off, eyes wide and fingers clenching at air.

 

“Did I hurt you?”  He looks so worried, Evan feels bad for stopping so abruptly.

 

He presses his hand against Connor’s cheek and smiles before kissing him gently, refusing to let Connor deepen it, and pulling back after just a brief moment, relishing the flash of relief mixed with disappointment in the blue eyes.  “No, it felt so good. So so good, like, unbelievably good. Like, you could do that for forever except I was about to come again and maybe some other time but right now I just want to keep going. Because I’ll come again if you keep it up and I still have...I need to...”

 

“You’re going to fuck me.”  Connor says evenly, and Evan is so very thankful that his boyfriend’s anxieties manifest differently than his own and Connor can find words when Evan can’t speak.  He nods in agreement, feeling his face flame but he eagerly strips Connor of his own pants and boxers, leaving them both completely naked together in bed for the first time.

 

As he takes in the sight of Connor’s arousal and lust filled gaze, Evan is even less sure he’s going to survive the experience now.  “Yeah.” He mumbles, lost in a sudden daydream of a bouncing, writhing Connor on his lap while they’re in the back of the jeep in the middle of a forest but Evan reminds himself that it’s not really the priority thought right now because he has a real Connor who is over top of him on a lumpy bed in a hotel which is just...so amazingly wonderful.

 

In a movement that surprises even him, he flips them both over so he’s the one now looming over his boyfriend and Connor looks completely at home sprawled out under him.  “You have lube and shit, right?”

 

Evan rolls his eyes and shuffles over to his bag where the little bag of condoms and lube has sat for days now waiting for this moment.  “I said I did my research. I’m not an idiot.”

 

“Never said you were, Ev.”  Connor is definitely laughing at him and he responds with a very mature raspberry before gently placing the box and the bottle onto the side table and climbing back onto the bed where Connor reaches out with an arm and drags him back so Evan is now straddling him.

 

Naked.

 

He is straddling Connor’s naked body with his own naked body and their erections are touching and everywhere is hot smooth skin and roaming hands and he’s about to have sex for the first time and oh god he can’t do it he just can’t it’s too much he can’t think and…

 

His brain blissfully turns to static for the moment Connor’s lips are on his and when they pull apart, he blinks and smiles sheepishly.  “Sorry.” The kiss had effectively cut off the spiraling thoughts, and while he’s still very overwhelmed, at least he’s not about to bolt into the bathroom and start freaking out.

 

“You looked like you were drowning.”  Connor admits and kisses him again, quickly and softly.  “We don’t have to do this now.”

 

“NO!”  Evan doesn’t even apologize for nearly screaming the word out because no, he absolutely does not want to stop, he can’t stop now, he just needs to breath for a moment.  “No, please. Please.” His hands are shaking when he settles between Connor’s legs and places a hand on each knee to draw them up. “I want to, I want to so badly.”

 

Connor’s breath quickens and a hand comes up to splay flat over his stomach.  “Then get moving, Ev.” His voice is high and thready with nerves and he jumps under Evan’s hand when he leans to grab the bottle of lube from the table.  The cap makes a loud sound when it opens and when he squeezes the bottle, it doesn’t sound much different than squeezing out some lotion except that it feels a lot slipperier than lotion does and that’s good because it’s sex and the parts should move easily, or so he’s read.  He definitely doesn’t want to hurt Connor.

 

The viscous liquid is cool when he pours it onto his first and middle fingers.  He rubs the dripping pool absently with his thumb as he dredges up the nerve to actually begin.  The moment is here and it’s absolutely terrifying. What if he does something wrong and Connor hates it?  What if Connor never wants to have sex again because of how terrible it is? What if Connor realizes he’s _straight_ because he had sex with Evan?  He’s heard of people saying they discovered they were gay after having sex, why not the other way around?

 

“Okay first off, I’m gay.  Let’s put that out there and keep it.”  Connor responds to his mental questions and he drops his head a bit when he realizes he’s been whispering out loud again without realizing it.  “Second, so what if you’re bad? Neither of us have done this. We’re _going_ to be bad at it.  Or at least very very quick with it.  I still want to.”

 

So does he.  “I’ll just have to practice then.”  He finally brings the lubed fingers up to the puckered flesh and at first, it’s nothing special.  Just a little bumpier flesh than the rest of Connor and the little sighs and groans coming from his boyfriend are similar to those during their makeouts.  It’s when his finger dips into the hole where things start to escalate.

 

He didn’t even realize it had happened at first.  He has been lightly rubbing and caressing the muscle simply because he’s been liking the different textures against his fingers and is surprised when he feels something hot and vice like around his finger and looks down to see his finger resting there inside Connor up to the second knuckle.  And then he remembers what the video he had watched told him, that if he rubbed at the muscle of the asshole it would relax and make stretching the bottom much easier.

 

Granted, the video had been about how to prep a bottom to take things much larger than his own dick, but the basics seem to remain the same because the proof is right there in front of him.  He gives the finger a little wiggle and is rewarded with a bucking of hips and a muttered curse from his boyfriend.

 

“We can practice any time.”  Connor gasps out when Evan decides to add a second finger once the first meets with absolutely zero friction.  He pours another dollop of lube before stroking at the inner walls in a sort of come hither move before scissoring his fingers, just slightly at first, paranoid about hurting the other boy despite the keening cries with each thrust of his fingers.

 

He watches Connor in the throes of his passion, squirming and whimpering, gasping and bucking, and he is absolutely beautiful.  He wants to keep Connor in this moment so he can remember it for forever but he knows he can’t. “You’re so gorgeous. I love you so much, I can’t believe you want me to do this.”  He’s rambling, he knows, but it’s all true he still can’t believe that someone wants him to be this close to them, to share this most intimate of moments with Evan of all people, it’s just thrilling and wonderful and he never wants it to end.

 

“Yes, of course I want you to do this.”  Connor sounds irritated that Evan could think anything else and Evan laughs.  He can’t help it, but he laughs and Connor is laughing and it should be awkward but it isn’t, it feels right and perfect and _them_.  “I”m ready, get in me.”

 

“Bossy for a bottom.”  Evan teases and and Connor rolls his eyes.

 

“Just wait until it's your turn.”  He threatens and Evan’s hips thrust involuntarily at the very lewd image that pops in his head at the words.

 

“Next time.”  He gasps and Connor whimpers when Evan grinds down purposefully this time before reaching again to grab a condom out of the box and hold it in shaking hands.  He can’t for the life of him remember what to do with the condom once he has it open. Is it slippery side on his dick or is it on the outside?

 

A crinkling followed by a cold rubbery sensation coating his cock has his head dropping to see Connor has taken matters into his own hands and is already rolling the slick latex down his shaft, taking extra time to fondle at his ball sack and he moans high in his chest at the feeling.  Nothing has ever felt as good to him as Connor touching him.

 

He’s hovering now over Connor propped on one forearm, one long thin leg hooked over his shoulder while the other rests around his waist.  His other shaking hand attempts to guide himself to his hole, the winking wet orifice that Connor wants Evan to fuck and oh god the heat, the _heat_ is suffocating his cock and overloading each nerve with what he can only describe as static, and he only has an inch inside Connor.

 

“Ev, Evvie.  Shhh.” There’s a hand gently petting along the hair falling in his face and he realizes he’s gasping out little cries and sobs, shivering and shuddering so violently it’s a wonder the bed isn’t knocking the wall.  “Baby, you’re alright. I’ve got you.”

 

Oh god, he’s crying during _sex_.  He’s that virgin who finishes quickly and cries and is just a pathetic mess why on earth is Connor having sex with someone this pathetic, what is he doing?  “Sorry!” He heaves a breath in, trying to regulate his sobbing back to normal breathing but it’s hard when the tears are being pumped from such an overwhelmingly deep well of emotion.  “You feel…” He gasps again when Connor clenches around the tip that’s inside and he squeezes his eyes shut. “Don’t do that!”

 

“Better fuck me while you can then, Evvie.”  Connor is breathless and pink and is running soothing hands down Evan’s arms, encouraging him wordlessly with both his touch and his eyes that yes, he wants Evan.  He wants this. He’s asked many times already tonight so what is Evan waiting for? Why is he panicking?

 

“Since you asked...since you asked so nicely.”  The stammer is certainly in place, he has no brain power available to dedicate to keeping his sentences coherent.  He presses his hips forward, and there’s hardly any resistance before he feels his balls against warm skin and realizes he is fully seated and Connor has a look of pain on his face.  “Connie! Why...You should have...Why didn’t you say I was hurting you?”

 

“S’alright.”  He whimpers. “Like a bandaid.  Just don’t move for a minute.”

 

It takes monumental effort to not move but he manages it.  He strokes the calf of the leg propped on his shoulder and smiles at the full body shudder it produces.  “I love you.” He whispers and Connor smiles slowly, effectively erasing the rest of the residual pain that had rested.

 

“Love you.”  He pushes up to kiss Evan before collapsing back on the pillows.  “I think I’m ready. You can move.”

 

 _Oh god but am I ready?_  “Are...are you sure?”  Evan squeaks out and Connor nods emphatically, squeezing around his cock with purpose and Evan takes the hint.  He pulls out, nearly breaking down weeping again after just calming down, and when he’s nearly all the way out, he pushes immediately back in, enjoying the hiss that escapes from both of them at the motion.

 

“Shit, Evan.”  Connor bucks up and Evan sobs out a breath at how the motion changes the pace of his thrusting.  He picks up the speed, determined to at least let Connor come before he does. He knows there’s the prostate that gay guys love to claim they can all find, but he has no clue how to even begin looking for it using his dick so he relies on Connor’s facial expressions to tell him if he’s hitting anything pleasurable or just using him as a masturbation aid.

 

He probably doesn’t need to worry about that last thought.  Connor’s hand is flying over his dick and Evan only has a moment of realization to regret it’s not his own hand before there is a vice grip on his cock and it’s over for him when he realizes it’s due to Connor coming.

 

He, Evan Hansen, just made Connor Murphy orgasm using his own dick and that is the most awe inspiring feeling he’s felt in his eighteen years of life so far.  Sure, the aftermath is messy and gross and he really wants a shower now but holy shit. He likes sex almost as much as he likes blowjobs.

### Connor

 

He’s trying to enjoy the afterglow, but he has a worried boyfriend he needs to placate instead and it’s kind of almost ruining it for him.  

 

“I’m sorry.”  Evan is repeating and Connor sighs before rolling over to over over him and mock glare down at him.

 

“Evan, you lasted a couple of minutes.  I fully expected you to come before you even got all the way in, with how sensitive you were when I blew you.”

 

True to form, Evan immediately has a protest.  He covers his face with the extra pillow so his voice is muffled, but Connor can still hear the frustration leaking through.  “It’s embarrassing! Who comes that quickly during sex?”

 

Connor rolls his eyes and falls back over on his side, propping up on an elbow to stare at his boyfriend.  “How is it a surprise? It was both of our first times having sex. I don’t think I had to do much more than touch myself the first time I masturbated to get myself to come.  I’m impressed you got it up a second time _and_ managed to actually fuck me.”

 

He sees the pillow fall to the side to reveal a look of prideful excitement.  “Hey, you’re right! I guess I did make you come, huh?”

 

He laughs at the blissful look on Evan’s face until his stomach hurts.  He loves it when Evan is so happy he glows. “Fuck yeah you did! I still can’t really feel my legs.”  He rubs at them fondly and kisses the still naked shoulder in next to him. He kind of wants another round, but he also wants to go to sleep soon.

 

Evan breaks from the kiss, his lips drawn out into a little frown.  “I never found your prostate though.”

 

He rolls his eyes again and taps at Evan’s nose playfully.  “Stop pouting. You have decades to find it.” He adjusts the blankets around them and fluffs up his pillow a bit.

 

It’s comical the way Evan’s eyes widen at that.  “Decades?!”

 

Has Evan not realized yet just how clingy and possessive Connor is?  “Well, not decades. I’d prefer it if you figured it out a little sooner than that, but no rush.”

 

 _“Connor James Murphy_.”  Evan sits straight up, ruining all his tucking in and he sighs yet again.

 

Maybe he hasn’t made it clear just how possessive he is over Evan.  “Seriously, Evan, I like you a lot. That’s what the words ‘I love you’ imply.  I intend to stay with you forever, or at least until you tell me to go.”

 

The words are vaguely creepy, and he’s pretty sure most people would be suitably creeped out by them, but all evan does is blink for a minute before beaming at him.  “Oh! Well. Thats, that’s good!” The hand on his chest twirls circles in the hairs there. “I also like you a lot. Well, love you. Like I’ve said before.”

 

“That’s good.”  He mimics and snickers when Evan slaps his arm lightly before returning it to its spot wrapped around him.  He can’t feel where he ends and Evan begins and he prefers it this way. They fall silent for a bit, the only sound their breathing and Dante sleeping on the floor.  “I really liked that, Evan.”

 

He feels Evan smile against his chest.  “Me too.” He mumbles and Connor hums contentedly before relaxing into the bed.  He doesn’t think he’ll have trouble falling asleep tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BET YOU THOUGHT THEIR KINKS. Ha. I hope that wasn’t terrible. I feel like it was terrible. This isn’t me fishing for compliments, I think everyone hates any sort of sexy shit they write. Anyway.
> 
> Thank you again for reading and reviewing and sharing and whatever, I appreciate all of you so much. Some of you have been commenting since day 1, and some just recently, but regardless know that I read each one and appreciate all of your complements and questions and suggestions, I really do. <3


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 105  
> Dec 20  
> Communication is key to healthy relationships.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven’t, I recommend you listen to Avi Kaplan’s song Otherside. Combined with the music video, it is everything I wish I was in life - at peace in the middle of the forest. This chapter took forever because I had no inspiration for most of it and all the inspiration for like, the last two chapters as well as the novel I am kind of sort of planning on writing maybe. Oh muses. Please stop fucking with me until I finish this, kthanksbye.

### Connor

 

“And then, and then, Evan and then we’re going to the _aquarium_.  The one in Monterrey!”

 

Levi is on speaker and Connor is driving while they listen to the eleven year old babble excitedly about what he and his aunt plan to do for the week of Christmas, ending now with telling them about their plans for today.  “What are you doing tomorrow?” Evan asks, a serious expression on his face as he waits for the answer. Connor idly thinks that Evan will make a good dad one day. Attentive, cares about the kid’s passions, patient and understanding.  

 

Someday.

 

“Hmm.”  They can hear the obvious sounds of a child thinking and it makes Connor grin.  “I don’t know yet. Hey Aunt Heidi!” They both wince when Levi’s shout makes the speaker crackle.  “What are we doing tomorrow?” Neither can hear her response, but Levi supplies it. “Hanging around here at the beach probably.  She said she has gifts to wrap and she’ll only have time tomorrow since it’ll be Saturday.”

 

“You sound disappointed.”  Connor observes and the sigh through the phone is one only a child can produce.  It brings a crooked half grin to his face.

 

“I wanted to go the park in San Francisco.  With the carousel.” Yes, he’s definitely pouting and he shares a little amused grin with Evan.  They hear Heidi’s muffled voice in the background and Levi whines in response to her whispered request.   “I have to go.” He grumbles and Connor snorts at how dejected the kid sounds. They’ve already been talking for an hour which is far more than he would’ve had the patience for at eleven.  Then again, Levi isn’t exactly a normal eleven year old.

 

“We’ll call later.”  Heidi’s voice comes through the phone.  “I’m sure he’ll want to tell you all about the fish, Evan.  Not to mention send you a thousand pictures.”

 

“I look forward to each one.”  Evan says and he sounds so genuine it makes Connor’s teeth hurt with how sweet the exchange is.

 

The call ends and Evan sits staring pensively at the phone.  They’re only an hour out of sisters, two from Portland, so they’re still around 5 hours from Seattle.  They forewent the very sad continental breakfast in favor of drive through McDonalds and as soon as they had left the window with their food, the call had come in from Levi.

 

“You okay, babe?”  Connor asks when Evan doesn’t move for a long while.  He blinks slowly and Connor realizes there are little tears welling along the lids.  “Shit, what’s wrong?” Nothing about the conversation was sad at all so he’s at a complete loss as to what might have caused the tears.

 

“Nothing.”  Evan says immediately but Connor isn’t reassured.  If nothing was wrong, he wouldn’t be crying. “I’m just a bit homesick all of a sudden.”

 

Oh.

 

 _Oh_.

 

Well fuck.  “We’ll be back in Rochester soon enough.”  Too soon, in his opinion. “So the conversation with Levi makes me think we should go back down to the commune when we’re done in Seattle and spend Christmas with them before heading back to New York, that way we're back just before the new year.”  He thinks Evan would enjoy spending the day with Heidi and Levi, he knows _he_ would love it, but the betrayed look of horror Evan gives him tells him a very different story.

 

“No!”

 

He’s a bit taken aback at the force of the refusal.  “What? Why?”

 

“Connor, I just said I’m homesick.”  Evan looks confused and hurt and Connor is also very confused and probably going to be very hurt soon if this delves into the argument he feels its headed towards.  “I was going to suggest we try and make it back to Rochester for Christmas. I really, really miss my mom.”

 

Shit fuck shit.  Why now? “I know, Evan.  I know.” He does, he really does.  And he kind of gets it, a little. Sure he doesn’t care about his parents, but Evan’s mom really does give a shit about him and he can get behind that.  He read some of her emails and it’s clear in every word she loves Evan. She might not know how to always talk to him or reach him, but she does love him.  He’d want to go home for Christmas, too. But he also is not in a hurry to spend a holiday with the family who hates him and made him feel so hopeless he had run away in the first place.  “But I absolutely don’t want to be in Rochester for Christmas. I want to be with you and maybe others who have proven they give a shit about us, like Heidi and Levi or Jamie and Ryan.”

 

Carson is still on their shit list, however accidental he claims the betrayal to be.  Being drunk isn’t an excuse to break a promise, even if it is while sobbing drunk on the phone to your little sister about two boys he wishes he could help more.  Shit, maybe they shouldn’t still be mad at him.

 

“I do, too.”  Evan admits, but something in his tone tells Connor he’s still not on board with it.  His words only confirm it. “But I feel like I need to make it up to my mom. For vanishing the way I did.”

 

“You don’t owe her anything, Evan.”  He hears the anger in his voice, and if he hears it that means there’s probably more coming through than he’s intending, but Evan barely blinks and he doesn’t quite understand the relief that makes his chest feel hollow.

 

“I could have talked to her, Connor!”  His voice is raised, too, and if it hadn’t been directed at Connor, he would have definitely been proud of his boyfriend.  However, someone yelling at him, no matter if it’s Evan, makes him feel like shit. “I didn't even tell her how I was feeling.  I just up and left.”

 

He responds in like to Evan’s own frustration, and maybe he needs to work on volume level because his voice echoes in the interior of the car.  “She wouldn’t have listened, you told me this!”

 

Evan flinches a little away from his raised voice, and Connor hates himself for it.   _He’s scared of you he’s terrified and now he’s going to hate you he’s…_

 

“I was angry!”  He’s saying, and Connor can’t believe Evan is still talking to him.  Then again, they are still in a moving car, so of course where else is Evan going to go?  “I was so so angry and frustrated and lonely and of course I was convinced she hated me and wouldn’t listen but I’ve read every single one of her emails, Connor.  Every single one and I’ve never felt so...God, I’m so _conflicted_.”  It’s very apparent that Evan is conflicted, he hasn’t seen such despair in awhile.

 

But, the confliction and despair isn’t fear, and that eases his stress considerably.  Though, it does bother him how conflicted Evan is about all of it. “How the fuck do emails make up for neglecting you, for making you feel like shit for all of high school?”  Somehow, Evan doesn’t hate him, and he kind of hates his own brain for trying to convince him of things that are ridiculous and stupid.

 

He’s relieved when Evan huffs and rolls his eyes.  “It doesn’t! But...but…”

 

“But what, Hansen?”  He bites. He hates that he’s snapping at the love of his life, but his nerves are frayed and his emotions are on edge and he’s so tired of watching every single word that comes out of his mouth.

 

Evan gives him an unimpressed look at his snap and he hopes his eyes are apologetic enough.  Evan is the one person he doesn’t _want_ to snap at.  “She’s my mom, Connie.  She...I have a lot I need to talk to her about.”  He’s not yelling, he’s nearly whispering now and the contrast is so strong Connor finds it jarring.

 

“You can’t call her?”   _Good, good, that was nearly civil_.  He snarks at himself and tries not to roll his eyes back at Evan when he does it, instead.

 

“Are you serious, Connor?”

 

Yes, he was serious, but Evan doesn’t need to sound like _that_ about it.  “Just asking!  And it can’t wait until _after_ Christmas?”

 

The unimpressed look only deepens and Connor sighs deep in his chest.  He doesn’t want Evan to prematurely wrinkle because of him and he’ll do that if he keeps frowning like that.  “She’s your mom.” He says slowly and Evan nods just as slowly, the frown receding a bit as he speaks.

 

His sigh is just as deep as Connor’s.  “Yeah.”

 

He’s quiet for a moment.  “And it’s _that_ important to you to talk to her in person?”

 

Evan’s nod is full of relief and hope and fuck he can’t destroy that, can he?  “Yes, it really is.”

 

He supposes he understands why.  Facial expressions and tone of voice is so important in conversation and even over video chat things can be misunderstood so easily.  He feels his face contort into a grimace. He can’t believe he’s considering it but then again, it is Evan. He’ll do anything for Evan.  “Can we discuss it later? So I can think about it?” He doesn’t like it, he hates it, and he already knows he’s going to agree, but he can’t just give in without some thought.  He can’t.

 

There’s a long pause of silence from Evan’s side of the car.  Connor can hear him swallow before saying, “yeah, that’s okay.  As long as before you start to assume something, you ask me to clarify first.”

 

He grins sheepishly at the little jab at his superpower of jumping to conclusions without a single thought.  “Deal.”

 

### Evan

It had only been an hour, but still Dante acts like he hasn’t seen them in years.  His tail is thumping so hard Evan is afraid it’s going to break against the door of the jeep as he’s struggling to get the daft dog into his harness while Connor stows the gifts they bought from various Pikes Place Market vendors into the storage boxes for safe keeping.  They found a cool brain diagram over newspaper print that they plan to send to Jamie for Christmas for whenever he has an office and a hand spun clay ashtray for Ryan so he’ll stop using Styrofoam cups and potentially burning down their house. Connor managed to find a couple prints of beautiful paintings and other art mediums that both of them liked and Evan already knows where in the Jeep he’s going to hang each one.

 

He is especially excited to give Levi his birthday gift.  He feels bad that it’s a combination birthday Christmas gift, but as Connor points out, they are poor runaways who can’t afford to spoil an eleven year old child that isn’t theirs with two expensive gifts for two events that happen three days apart.  The gift probably wouldn't excite any other eleven year old, but he knows Levi will shriek when he sees the beautiful leather bound navigation journal complete with a telescope, compass, and sextant as well as a couple of books authored by Jacques Cousteau he found tucked near the bottom of a haphazard stack of books in a very small used book shop in the bottom portion of the Marketplace.

 

He ignores Connor when he makes a second round of sarcastic comments about dogs and owners as he slips Dante into a beautiful grey cable knit sweater that looks remarkably like his own that he favors, and is in fact wearing today.  He’ll jump off another tree before he admits out loud that he _did_ choose the dog sweater for that very reason.  He clips the leash onto the harness, threading it through the hole in the sweater, and Dante shakes once it’s all in place, ears slapping as his head flops back and forth.  He seems confused that the sweater is still in place when he stills and cocks his head at Evan.

 

He laughs at the large sad eyes Dante is giving him.  “Yes, it’s still on you. It’s cold, don’t think I don’t see you shivering.”  The dog shakes again, this time his whole body rolls and when he stops, the large sad eyes are now large resigned ones and Evan laughs again.  “I know. But it’s not like you’ll wear a blanket while walking around like I do when I’m very cold and again, you are shivering.” He hasn’t worn a blanket like that since the last campsite, as he doesn’t get overly cold in the hotel rooms, but Yellowstone had a burrito Evan nearly every morning.

 

Dante seems to forget he’s even wearing the sweater when Connor tosses him the leftover bites of steak from their lunch, and he’s chomping away happily as Connor takes Evan’s hand and they head back over towards the water, this time heading for the railing that overlooks the old highway and the waterfront.  Dante gives a little bark and they look down to see his tail wagging and tongue lolling for more. “Nope.” Connor chirps, throwing the take out container into the trash can as they pass it on their way over to the overlook railing. “We’re walking now, not finding more steak.”

 

“Don’t crush his dreams, Connie.”

 

“He’ll live.”

 

Dante barks in response and both boys collapse giggling against the railing.  The dog noses through the bars and they stand there silently for a bit, taking in the sights of the bay and Puget Sound and the waterfront.  He hears someone near by commenting to their friends that the overlook is so much quieter how that the tunnel diverts the traffic below and how no one misses the highway traffic and wonders what it would have been like to not hear the seagulls and the sounds of people and can’t imagine it was a nice sight.  It’s definitely better without the cars.

 

“Holy fucking shit.”

 

He looks up from where he’s examining a fleck of paint on the rail that doesn’t match the rest.  Connor’s mouth is hanging open as he stares at his phone like he can’t quite believe that what he’s seeing is real.  “What’s wrong?”

 

“She isn’t.”

 

He realizes he’s going to have to drag Connor’s hand over so he can see the screen because he sure as shit isn’t showing his Instagram to Evan.  What he sees is a rather benign shot of Jared and Zoe. It’s obvious someone else took the picture because the pair are leaning against the brick wall staring up and sideways at the sky with Jared’s arm draped over her shoulders.  He wonders if he’s putting his full body weight behind it like he used to do to Evan.

 

“Fuck, they’re actually dating!”  Connor sounds genuinely irritated and Evan just shakes his head.

 

“Do they _say_ that?”  He looks again at the photo, this time at the caption that reads ‘looking off to that horizon.’

 

“No.”  Connor admits when Evan reads it out loud but then his voice raises again, pointing at the screen as he rants.  “But he has his arm around her shoulder and she’s _smiling_.  Why else would she let him touch her if they’re not dating?  He’s so...gross.”

 

He relinquishes his hold on the phone so Connor can pull the phone back up to his face.  He knows Connor isn’t really going to listen, but he’s going to try and reason with him anyway.  “They could just be friends, Connie. Jared stands like that for pictures.”

 

“But…”  Evan thinks he looks adorable with his tongue peaking out through his teeth as he scrolls through Instagram looking for proof of a relationship.  “...but what if she has a picture of them kissing?”

 

“Well.”  Evan shrugs and leans on the railing with one elbow.  “Then I think it’s safe to say they might be dating.”

 

“So do you see this?”  He has no choice but to look at the photo because Connor has thrust the screen directly in his line of sight.  This one is a selfie, probably by Zoe given the angle of the shot, and they are definitely lip locked in it.

 

He lets out an inelegant snort.  “Yes, they are probably dating. Jared doesn’t kiss just anyone like that, especially for Instagram.”

 

Connor looks outraged and Evan is confused at it.  Well, maybe not confused. He hates Jared and doesn’t hate his sister.  “But...but you…”

 

However, this is going a direction Evan did not expect.  “Connor, are you serious right now?” His hands come up to rest on his hips and Dante takes advantage of the leash movement to change where he’s peering out along the railing.  “I am dating you. I love you. Why would I be bothered by Jared and your sister?”

 

His boyfriend actually, genuinely looks confused now.  “But, well. Because…the letter. What kind of friend dates the person his best friend likes?  Kleinman still thinks you like her, right?”

 

“What lett...oh.”  His stupid old therapy letters.  His voice drops to almost a croon and he has to fight to level it to one Connor won’t snap at.  “Connie, we talked about that already, remember? Yellowstone that first night we got high together.”

 

He knows Connor remembers, because Connor has an insane memory.  He just doesn’t always trust his memory of events to be accurate and so he tends to question things.  Evan loves that he knows this about him.

 

Connor blinks and hunches his shoulders, his hands shoved into his pockets.  “You said...something about wanting a friend and Zoe seemed to be the best bet?”  He asks it like it’s a question because it very much is.

 

Evan nods.  “Not to mention Jared is an asshole and even if I did like her, it wouldn’t stop him from dating her.”

 

He nods, too.  “He’s a fucking ass.”  His sigh is full of relief and a bit of guilt and Evan knows he’s currently hating himself for doubting.  “Okay. Okay good though. You’re fine.”

 

“Yeah.”  He tries to remember what it was Connor had said to him all those months ago about his anxiety and nudges at his boyfriend’s shoulder.  “Your paranoia seems to be extra bitchy today.”

 

Connor lets out a sharp bark of laughter and shoves at his shoulder.  “It really is.”

 

The phone lets off an alarming series of beeping that has them staring at the device while Dante looks up at them with a cocked head.  They listen as the weather report is read in a tinny female voice, predicting snow in the eastern part of the state all the way nearly to Montana and that all roads east through Idaho and Montana are closed for safety.

 

“Guess that solves that problem.”  Connor snarks.

 

Evan’s sigh is full of long suffering and he knows it.  “Are we stopping here and exploring or sleeping and going back down or just driving back straight through down?”

 

“It’s what, 2?”  Connor hums and shrugs.  “If we hit traffic right, we could probably make it back by 2 am and give...fuck, what was the property owner’s name?”

 

He blinks and then his eyes widen in horror.  “I don’t think I ever asked her name.”

 

They stare at each other in mild shock and then start laughing.  “I can’t believe it!” Connor snorts and slaps his leg once. “Holy fuck, I _can’t believe it._ ”  His laugh is nearing his hyena levels of amusement and he can suddenly feel thousands of prickling eyes watching him.

 

“Shut up.”  Evan hisses, suddenly feeling a bit panicked.  He can feel people looking at them and he hates it still.  It doesn’t matter how confident he feels every day, he still doesn’t want to draw attention to himself.  Connor claps a hand over his mouth and nods solemnly, eyes wide and eyebrows floating up near his hairline rather dramatically, and Evan rolls his eyes.

 

Drama king.  

 

Then Connor’s offer registers and now his eyebrows are shooting up to his hairline.  “Wait, you _don’t_ want to stay in Seattle?”

 

Connor shrugs and kicks at the railing with a boot.  It reverberates with a deep twang. “I mean, of course I do.  But you made it pretty fucking clear how badly you want to be with your mom for Christmas, so.  Yeah. Can’t do that from here, so we gotta go south. Might as well see Heidi and Levi.”

 

Evan frowns.  The bite of the misty breeze against his face is cold and grounding and helps him potentially cause more arguments.  “Connor, I want to be with _you_ more than I need to talk to my mom.  So if you want to stay in Seattle, we need to talk about it, remember?”

 

“I know, Ev.”  Connor sounds reassuring and his entire continence is calm, so Evan relaxes.  “I want to come back to Seattle when it’s warmer, and potentially drier. I’d rather be down with Levi on the beach tomorrow, you know?”

 

His heart warms and twists and he grins over at his boyfriend.  “I was very jealous of his trip to Monterrey today.”

 

“Well, you can hear all about it in person tomorrow.”

 

The phone dings and Evan sees the third text of the day from the boy in question, this one detailing blue whales and their importance to the ecosystem.  “Provided he doesn’t send us all the pictures today.”


	32. Winter Surprises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 106  
> Dec 21
> 
>  
> 
> The boys gain some more perspective.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Levi might just be my favorite character I’ve written.

### Evan

 

Evan had missed the stretch of beach they had previously, unofficially, claimed as their own, he will admit that.  He missed sitting in the camping chair at the water's edge and just _being_ , existing in a state of relaxed calm as the rolling sounds of the waves on the sand wash over him.  He never thought he’d be as at home next to the ocean as he is in the forest, but here he is. As expected, they had arrived early in the morning and by the time their little camp was set up, it was nearing 2 am.  They had quickly penned a note to the owner with a small deposit for the night and then crashed immediately in the back bed around 3.

 

It’s 7 now, and he is surprisingly well-rested for only four hours of sleep.  He tucks himself up further on the camp chair, drawing the blanket tighter around his shoulders.  Dante is curled at the base of his chair and he’s waiting for the dog to wake up and want his breakfast.  Or Levi to wake up and see him, whichever happens first. He’s surprised when Dante stirs before Connor wakes up or Levi comes out of their little house and makes the trek back to the jeep in silence, the only noise his footsteps and Dante’s panting.

 

He props the chair against the jeep and opens the door as quietly as he can, motioning for Dante to hop in.  The dog wags his salt and pepper tail and stands there otherwise motionless for a bit before leaping onto the bedding and circling around to curl at Connor’s feet.  The other boy is laying curled in a ball except for one leg which is ramrod straight and sticking out of the blankets with a barefoot exposed to the cold air.

 

And a dog’s tongue.  Evan is very glad he isn’t the one being woken up like that if Connor’s yelp is any indication of sudden stress levels.  “What the fuck is up with you and your obsession with my foot?” Connor mutter-groans as he draws the now slobbery foot back under the blanket and into the ball of human boy he’s making under the mounds of bedding.

 

Evan has only made it so far in that he’s just now closing the jeep door and he pauses when he realizes Connor is now awake.  “I was coming to see if you wanted breakfast yet.” Only an elongated groan escapes the huddle of blankets and he giggles under his breath.  “May I take that as a yes?”

 

A hand emerges and a single thumb pops up in a positive sign and Evan gives it a little peck, right at the tip.  “You sappy fucker.” The blanket blob mumbles.

 

Evan pats where he knows Connor’s head is, though it’s only because little bits of his hair stream out of the blankets where it doesn’t seal perfectly.  “You love it.”

 

“Mmhmm.”  Comes the answering groan and Evan slips back out of the jeep and towards where their little outdoor kitchen is set up.  He can hear Connor muttering to himself and hears the blankets shifting around and grins when he hears the suitcase unzip.  

 

He doesn’t have time to rifle through their little powered cooler for what breakfast foods they probably don’t have because the voice he’s been expecting to hear all morning finally calls out over the grounds.

 

“Evaaaan!”

 

Evan turns and is met with the sight of a blurry blob running as fast as his short legs could move across the packed dirt of the driveway, giving him some time to prepare before the undersized child connects with his torso with all the force of a missile and he twirls as he lifts to help ease the force the boy makes when he hits and laughs again at the infectious giggles.  He doesn’t care that Levi’s hug has pulled hairs out of the little bun he’s pulled the longer potion of his hair into because it’s very wonderful to hug his favorite kid again.

 

Levi runs his hands over Evan’s exposed undercut absently, his tremendous pout making him look far younger than his eleven years.  “Why didn’t you say you were coming when we talked yesterday?”

 

“We didn’t know until hours after we hung up so we decided to surprise you.  Um. Surprise!” Connor calls out from the back of the Jeep and Evan smirks. He knows his boyfriend will rush now to get ready after hearing Levi outside.  Evan lets Levi drop out of his arms so he can dart over to the back hatch.

 

“Connor!  Connor, Connor, Connor!  I want a hug already! I missed you!”  He hops from foot to foot waiting for the other teen to hop out of the car before flinging himself around his waist, knocking Connor off his feet completely.  Dante barks around the pair as they crumble to the sandy dirt and Levi’s high laugh is accompanied by Connor’s deeper, sleepy one and Evan loves both of them immensely.

 

“Careful, Squirt.  Gonna break me in half if you hug me any harder.”

 

“That’s literally impossible Connor.  I’m a very small eleven year old. I don't think even The Rock could break you in half.”

 

“And _I_ -” here Evan watches as Connor taps Levi’s nose with a long finger and wink.  “- think you’re stronger than The Rock.” He melts a little watching the interaction.  God, he’s adorable interacting with the pre-teen.

 

“No.”  Levi gasps, hands coming to cover his mouth, and Evan has to hide his laughter so the anxious fifth grader doesn’t think Evan is laughing _at_ him.  “ _That_ is impossible!  He is The Rock!”

 

“Well, guess you’ll have to either believe me, or keep hugging me to prove me wrong.”  Connor retorts cheekily and Evan rolls his eyes. Honestly, sometimes he’s not sure who is the bigger child, Connor or Levi.

 

Levi rocks back and forth on his heels, hands clasping and unclasping as he stands there.  “Aunt Heidi told me she saw you come in last night and says if you don’t come for breakfast, she’s disowning you.”

 

A little gasp escapes him, he can’t help it, and he immediately flushes when Connor starts to laugh at him.  “Stuff it.” He sighs, censoring himself for the sake of the child in their midst and addresses Connor. “I’d hate to be disowned over missing breakfast.”

 

“We have nothing to eat anyway.”  He shrugs and Evan sighs again, this time more amused than exasperated.

 

“We do, you just want Heidi’s pancakes.”

 

“To be fair, I think everyone wants Aunt Heidi’s pancakes, Evan.”  Levi pipes up and Dante lets out a little bark as if agreeing with the child.  Levi then reaches out and tugs on Evan’s hand. “C’mon! I wanna show you what I got at the aquarium yesterday!”

 

### Connor

 

He didn’t think he could find Evan even more attractive, but watching him sit there next to Levi, hands over his as he shows him how to form the cords for the notes to jingle bells is proving him wrong.  

 

“Like this?”

 

“Just like that!”  Evan praises and moves back so the boy is holding the instrument on his own.  “Now, put it together.”

 

A very slow, rough ‘G’ plays and Connor hides a wince at the awkward out of tune sound but Evan is beaming with pride and Levi has his tongue out in concentration as he’s moving his fingers and it really doesn’t matter how horrible it’s sounding, Levi is learning and Evan is teaching and Connor?

 

Well, he’s talking to Heidi.  “That’s why I really don’t want to go back to Rochester.”  He’s just finished telling her about his dad and how closed off and impersonal he is, how it feels like he only cares about how Connor reflects him, and she smiles a little, even after his rant.

 

“I think all parents worry how their children reflect them.”  Her words come out slowly, as if she’s afraid of offending Connor, except she’s never known him to fly off into uncontrollable rage at a wrong question.  That seems to be reserved for those who know him back in Rochester so he knows her hesitation stems solely from her concern for him and his obviously very damaged relationship with Larry.  “It’s only natural. A child is a walking billboard of our parenting skills and when the child acts in a way that we don’t anticipate or desire, sometimes we as the parent don’t handle it correctly.”

 

He can't help the flare of irritation at her words, or how his voice raises when he replies.  “I’m my own person though. I should be allowed to make my own mistakes.” Connor argues tightly and her casual nod is oddly relaxing.  She’s barely reacting at the bite in his words and he still doesn’t quite know how to deal with people not walking on glass around him, especially when he’s showing obvious signs of distress.

 

“You are and you should, absolutely.  Which is what frustrates parents.” She smiles wryly and nods her head at her nephew.  “Take Levi. The boy is absolutely fanatical about oceanography and ocean conservation.  What other eleven year old is more concerned with the levels of trash floating about in the ocean than Legos and fart jokes?”  Her words may say she’s exasperated, but her tone and the smile flickering at the corners of her lips betrays just how much she loves the child, odd hobbies and passions aside.

 

He thinks of his boyfriend and his long soapbox rants about deforestation and clear cutting and grins a little half smirk.  “Evan and his trees.” He says, his voice soft and fond, and she snorts.

 

She looks over to where the pair is still trying to eek out a recognizable version of Jingle Bells.  “Well, there is a reason they get along like two little peas in a snug little pod.” Another wrapped box drops to the pile of gifts sitting on the chair next to her and a bag only holds one last gift to wrap - a book on ocean experiments for Levi.  

 

“Yeah, it’s pretty fucking adorable.”  He freezes and squeezes his eyes shut. “I mean, I didn’t...sorry.”

 

Heidi bursts into giggles, her hands covering her face as she curls into herself a little.  “Oh, Connor. It’s not like I’ve never heard a curse before. I’ve even used them on occasion.”

 

He feels his cheeks heat and he ducks his head in embarrassment.  She’s not laughing at him, logically he knows this, but there’s always that little voice in his brain that tells him it’s always towards him, that they’re laughing at _him_ and he hates it, he hates the gut reaction.  “Not that I’ve heard.” He aims for a light tone, and the side look she shoots him tells him he failed with that, but she just snorts and gives him a little half smile.

 

“Fuck you.”  He barks out a laugh and she rolls out some more paper and props her elbows on the table to anchor it in place while she stares at her nephew.  “You know, I sometimes wonder if I’m doing what’s best in homeschooling him.”

 

Connor blinks at the non sequitur and struggles to find something to reply that isn’t ‘huh’ or some other gormless expression.  “Why are you homeschooling him?” _Very good, Connor.  Nice and normal._

 

Her expression darkens, eyes narrowing and lips thinning.  “First grade. He had a stutter so bad you could barely understand him.  He was in speech therapy, but it was slow work.” He’s not sure he likes where this is going.  It sounds far too close to a combination of his and Evan’s grade school years. But she doesn’t elaborate save for a brief explanation.  “Seven year olds can be little demons.” She sighs, heavy and sad and full of regret. “I pulled him out, and have taught him myself, or have hired a tutor when I absolutely cannot take off work, ever since.”

 

Connor can’t imagine how she does it, working full time and ensuring her child has his education herself.  It sounds utterly exhausting. He frowns and shoves his foot under the sand before lifting it and watching the tan grains pour over in a cascade.  “Aren’t there programs and shit for home-schooled kids? Like, science and math groups, music and art and sports, shit like that.” He thinks he remembers his mom mentioning it the one semester after the printer incident he had needed to be home-schooled as the private school they were enrolled in had immediately expelled him and the public schools had no space for him and Cynthia had wanted to keep an eye on him anyway.

 

“There are, but when I’m not teaching him or he’s not with his tutor, I am working.”  Paper crinkles sharply in her hand as she clenches a fist she sighs again, this time moisture forming along her eyelids.  Connor can tell the entire thing is weighing heavily on her and the mental projection of Cynthia sobbing at the table, a sight he had seen many times before, has him wanting to stand and demand they depart now because he can’t stand imagining his mother crying yet again, not because he’s disappoints her but because she doesn’t know if he’s dead or alive.  

 

But Heidi is still talking, and he’s far too polite to interrupt her, especially because she appears to need to talk to someone and he’s very good at listening.  Maybe not with giving advice, but he can sure as fuck listen. “It’s his decision to continue to call me Aunt, and I’m afraid it’s because he’s detached from me.”  

 

Connor doesn’t know how to respond to that.  He doesn’t have to though, because she doesn’t seem to want an answer.  “Maybe he’s afraid if he calls me mom, I’ll die too.”

 

“Seems logical, for anxiety anyway.”  He muses, thinking of how Evan’s and even his own anxieties can cause some rather irrational beliefs to take root.

 

She hums and her shoulders lift slightly as she takes in a slow, measured breath.  “All I can do is my best, I suppose. He’s happy and healthy.”

 

He instantly disagrees with her on that.  “But you need to talk to him, too. Communicate with him now, even if you don’t think he needs to worry about it, before he’s older and doesn’t want to listen.”  He thinks about all the times he wishes Cynthia or Larry had made an attempt before he had attempted suicide the first time because before, he might have accepted it.  And had they approached him at eleven to help him with his mental health problems? Christ, it would have been a dream come true. Even if they had simply talked to him like a person and not a little robot, it could have only helped him feel more secure.

 

She’s quiet after he’s done talking, and he hopes he didn’t offend her.  What right does he have giving her advice? He’s only eighteen, and a highschool dropout at that.  She has every right to dismiss him, to call him out on his youth and inexperience, but somehow like everyone else he’s met on this trip, she surprises him.  “You’re right.” There’s a weight behind her words that worries him and a darkness in her eyes he recognizes on his or Evan’s worst days. “And of course I listen to him, and I’m always honest with him even when it’s difficult.  It doesn’t make my absences any easier on either of us.”

 

It doesn’t.  He can see that struggle and for the first time wonders if his parents go through the same worries.  He knows Evan does, and can for the first time maybe understand things from Heidi Hansen’s point of view, especially if her reasons are anything close to this Heidi’s.  “He knows you love him.” He says quietly, hoping he can offer just a bit of comfort to the woman who has shown him more unconditional love than he can remember in a long time.  “And he fucking adores you.”

 

She snorts and ducks her head, long red hair flowing over to hide her face.  “Stop it, Connor.”

 

He snickers at her bashful attitude and shakes his head, arms crossing over his chest as he leans back in the chair.  “Stop telling you the truth? Never.”

 

Heidi rolls her eyes and he nudges at her chair with his foot.  She kicks it away and arches an an eyebrow at him. “Have you told him?”

 

It’s an effective distraction and he pretends to not understand what she means.  “Told who what?”

 

She slaps his arm lightly and he holds it, playfully whining about abuse.  He likes the playfulness, and would much rather talk about his boyfriend than think about his parents crying over him.  “Have you told Evan how you feel.”

 

“Yeah.”  He nods and feels his cheeks heat thinking about how Evan had writhed against him last night during their very heated goodnight kiss.  He resolutely does not look over to where he’s singing the harmony bits for Levi because he knows he’s going to look absolutely enchanting, and his self-control is already barely hanging on by a thread.  Christ, even fully clothed the other boy is an intoxicating distraction. “I mean, I’ve told him I love him. And he’s said it back.” He’s red all over, he knows he is, and she smiles knowingly.

 

“Good.”  Her hands still around the small book on the strip of paper and her eyes dim a bit as her voice lowers.  “I never really got a chance to get to know my sister Luciana, Levi’s mother. I was only 9 when she ran from home the moment she turned eighteen and then one day six years ago, I learn she’s dead when a woman in a pantsuit shows up on my doorstep at 2 in the morning with a sleeping child in her arms.  I hadn’t seen her in eleven years and the only part of her that was left was a tiny little 5 year old who looked like he hadn’t had a full meal in his life. I was 20 when he came into my life and I’ve spent every day since trying to make that little boy smile.”

 

Another mangled chord from the ukelele has Levi laughing, happy and bright, and Evan echoes it immediately.  “In all the time I’ve known the child, he never truly laughed until you two came into our lives.” She turns to stare at him and an uneasy chill runs up his spine.  As much as he hates being berated and judged, he also hates complements and being thought of as a better person than he feels he is. It all feels like a knife in his stomach, the story, the emotions, the happy duo learning Christmas songs.  

 

He stares back at her, wide eyed and breathing heavily, and she quirks a sad little half smile at him.  “You really should go home for Christmas, Connor.” She urges earnestly. “It will be the best present you can give your families, even if they can’t show it appropriately.”

 

Fuck.

### Evan

 

Heidi is inside her tiny house with Connor preparing lunch while he had elected to remain outside with Levi and Dante.  He’s no longer needed in assisting Levi in remembering chord fingerings, and Levi isn’t too bothered with misstrummed notes or badly placed fingers.  He just adjusts and continues and Evan can’t think of any time he’s felt prouder.

 

“I think I’m ready, Evan.”  It’s Levi’s third time through Jingle Bells without any stops, and while every note is still a bit rough and awkward sounding, it’s also easy to hear the potential behind the notes and Evan wants to encourage that.

 

“You want to play before or after lunch?”  He won’t stop Levi if he thinks he’s ready to play for the little group.  God forbid he be the one to trigger the onset of anxiety in a child that reminds him already too much of himself.  Levi doesn’t need to add anxiety on top of his abnormal-for-his-age obsessions and lack of social skills. Besides, they’re leaving shortly after and he suddenly very much wants to see Levi’s first little concert.  He plans on leaving the ukulele here with Levi. He’ll certainly use it more often than Evan will.

 

“Before!”  He chirps, holding the battered uke above his head as he twirls in circles on the sand.  “Do you think fish like music? You know, like how plants like music?”

 

Evan chuckles and ruffles at the short boy’s beanie.  “You’ll have to buy a fish and tell me.” It is an interesting question, one he thinks Levi should explore when he has a chance.  “And then you can write a paper all about it and become a famous scientist by the time you’re in high school.” He read Levi’s research paper on ways to create less ocean pollution and had been incredibly impressed at the way the child formed his sentences and ideas at a level far higher than he’s ever been able to do.

 

Levi giggles, but it doesn’t last long as the melancholic look takes back over.  “I’ve asked.” It’s apparent it’s been more than once with just how heavy his reply is and Evan can very much understand. Only his was _sorry, Ev love, it’s just too expensive to splurge on this year_ to his every request for a bonsai as he unveiled yet another shirt or some other article of clothing he might have needed instead.  He pulls the boy into a side hug. Living in a single income house sucks sometimes, as he well knows. “She says when we find a permanent place to park the house, then I can have a fish.  She’s afraid of what traveling will do to it.”

 

“Aren’t you, too?”  Evan inquires curiously tilting his head and Levi’s shrug is far from relaxed.

 

“Of course I am.  I would die inside if I killed a pet because I was careless.”  He looks horrified at the very thought and Evan hugs him again.  “I just…” His voice trails off and he pushes back from Evan a bit to shuffle a bit in the sand, fidgeting with the strings on the ukulele.  “I want the fish _so badly_.”

 

He finds himself channeling his inner Jamie for the conversation as well as drawing on parallels between his own childhood and therapy.  “For you, getting the fish means you got the home, so it makes sense Levi.” Evan says quietly and the boy picks his head up to look at Evan with wide, wet eyes.  “Why can’t the tiny house be a permanent house?”

 

“Because it moves!”  Levi cries out and swipes a sleeve over his nose.  “It has wheels and moves from lot to campground to backyard.  We don’t have a permanent home!”

 

“Does the house itself change?”

 

Levi pauses rubbing at his nose and blinks.  His arm slowly drops as he says, “well, no. It all stays the same.  Just where we park changes.”

 

“Does who you live with change?”

 

There is an even longer pause, and this time the blinks drop some tears down the pasty cheeks.  “No.” He whispers hoarsely and coughs. Evan knows what the cough is for, he does it often enough himself to clear a too-thick throat.  “No, it’s always...Aunt Heidi. She’s never left me behind, ever.”

 

He’s definitely ignoring the screaming parallels between their lives and current situations and lowers himself to a crouch to pick up a stick.  He can feel Levi watching him as he writes slowly, ensuring each letter is easily readable. “My therapist in New York used to have me write letters to myself.”

 

Levi’s wide eyed and silent as he slowly crouches next to Evan, one arm wrapping around his knees while the other is still tightly holding onto the instrument.  “What kind of letters?”

 

The sand reads the first line to every single letter he wrote over the summer and he doesn’t bother to look at it when he replies.  “Dear Evan Hansen, Today is going to be a good day and here’s why.” Evan expects the eleven year old to laugh, to snort and snicker like Jared had, but he doesn’t.  His eyes just grow wider.

 

He holds his hand out in a silent request for the stick.  He swipes at Evan’s name and scratches out the letters that make up his own name before stabbing the stick in the dot of the ‘i’ in his name.  “Dear Mark Levi, Today’s a good day because you're with Evan, and Connor, and….and your aunt and you're learning the ukulele with Evan and you haven’t stuttered once and that never happens.”

 

Evan smiles softly when Levi stands as he babbles his verbal letter to himself and holds a hand out to help Evan up.  The letters may not have worked for him, but Jamie had said they had worked for him and he’s very glad he shared the idea with the kid who likes to write like he likes to take photographs because it’s already apparent that it could be a very good way to help Levi.  His expression is already lighter as he rambles on their way into the house.

 

“There you boys are.”  Heidi hands Evan a platter of mixed vegetables.  “Can you put that on the table?”

 

He turns and nestles it in next to the pasta salad and beef barley soup.  Connor is leaning against the counter with his arms crossed and a smirk that makes his eyes dance with mischief.  “Hey stranger.” He says with a little chin lift and Evan arches an eyebrow at the action.

 

“Hey.”  He echoes.  He looks over at Levi who is frozen with a terrified expression and his heart aches at the visible anxiety on his face.  “You’ve got this.” He murmurs and nudges Levi who starts and holds up the ukulele.

 

His voice is shaky, but firm.  “Can I play something for you, Aunt Heidi?”

 

He’s not jealous of the way the woman drops everything she’s doing to sit in the little recessed couch to give her nephew her full attention as he clears his throat and strums a much stronger opening ‘G’ chord than his first attempt.

 

Not jealous at all.  

 

His neck prickles and he looks over at his boyfriend who is watching him with what are possibly the most intense eyes yet and he suddenly knows that they won’t be staying here for Christmas like Connor had wanted.  By the time Connor’s mouth lifts in a half smirk and he pushes off the counter to walk over to him, Evan is already planning on how to extract just what had changed his mind.


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Days 106-109  
> Dec 21-24
> 
> “I’m not planning on leaving. We’re doing this together, okay?”
> 
> “Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some warnings in the end notes for those who care so there aren’t any potential spoilers. This chapter covers moments over the entire trip back to Rochester, so it spans three days. The date, location, and relative time are under the POV name to make it hopefully understandable.

### Connor

December 21

Just past Winnemucca, Nevada

Evening

 

Evan snores.  Connor can’t remember if he’s brought the topic up with his boyfriend or not, but he definitely snores.  Most of the time, it doesn’t really bother him. Right now however, each sawing breath from the seat next to him is a grating irritation on his eardrums that makes him want to punch something.  He’s exhausted after only driving for five hours, what with their long night drive yesterday and all the running around they did with Levi and Dante just before they left, and he is extremely jealous Evan is asleep right now.

 

He is also very much regretting his decision to drive straight through without hotel stops.  All he wants is a bed and to not be required to move for the next twelve hours which he knows won’t happen now until they’re back in New York.  

 

At the next snore, which somehow echoes, Connor makes the decision to pull off at the next pull over which just happens to be an exit that is essentially just a dirt road lined with tall, bushy pine and just perfect in his opinion for a long nap.  As the tire noises change from old asphalt to pebbly dirt, the snoring suddenly stops and he knows Evan is awake, or at least well on his way there.

 

“Connie?”  Evan’s half-asleep voice is the most adorable sound Connor has ever heard in his life.  “What’s going on?” He glances over to see his boyfriend rubbing blearily at his eyes with the back of his hand, yawning widely.

 

He angles the jeep so it’s hidden from immediate sight of anyone on the highway and turns off the engine.  “I’m exhausted but I refuse to pay for a hotel for a four hour nap.” Despite everything, despite how well he knows Evan now, he is half expecting his companion to protest, or maybe demand he buck up or grow up but he does none of that.

 

“Okay.”  Sweater bunching around his torso, Evan twists and practically swan dives into the back bed from the passenger seat, bouncing Dante and waking the pup up with a startled yelp.  “I can drive when we wake up.” He says as Connor does the same, only far more sedately as to not crush either bed occupant. “I’ve been sleeping a while already.”

 

He’s still not completely used to someone looking out for him and his well being.  It’s different than Evan ignoring his own needs for Connor, too. At least, it usually is different.  He’s a lot better with that than in the beginning. Connor only hopes each of their progresses won’t stall or reverse the moment they step foot back in Rochester.  “That sounds perfect, Ev.” Then maybe he can nap a bit longer so he’s ready to drive for a longer time.

 

There is a lot of fabric against fabric noise as they shuffle around to get comfortable under the blankets, Dante eventually moving to the passenger seat to wait when he’s kicked one too many times.  When they finally still and the silence starts to settle in around them, Evan is on his stomach with an arm and a leg draped over Connor, who is on his back and gently trailing fingers up and down the arm over his chest.  He smiles softly when Evan presses a kiss to the bottom of his chin and he ducks down to capture his lips in a deep, slow kiss that leaves them both breathless.

 

“Next time…”  Evan gasps when Connor nibbles down along a straining vein in his neck, bucking against his hip in a jerky motion when Connor gives a particularly sharp bite, one he knows will leave a bruise, right where his neck and shoulder meet.

 

 _Interesting_ .  He files away Evan’s reaction for later analysis and softens his touch to light, open-mouth kisses against the soft pale skin.  “Next time?” He coaxes when Evan whimpers, tugging a bit on the leg shifting over his in a desperate silent plea to have the boy climb on top of him, but he remains in place and Connor fights back disappointment.   _Sleep, we are back here to sleep._

 

“When...when we’re in a bed.”  Evan’s breath is so thready and staccatoed it sounds like he’s running a marathon, and maybe emotionally he is right now.  “In a room, I want to bottom. I want…I want you in me next time.”

 

 _Oh shit._  He’s down with that.  He finds himself unable to voice anything through his suddenly very tight throat and swallows hard, hoping to dislodge it.  When all that happens is the band tightens and the knot swells, he does the only thing he can and he desperately hopes his kiss will convey just how on board with the idea he is.

 

“I think I’ll like it.”  Evan says the moment they break apart and the abrupt frankness in his tone makes Connor snicker, successfully breaking the emotional hold on his vocal chords.

 

He knows his smirk is full of wicked delight what with the dark flush that creeps over Evan’s cheeks and he finds it thrilling.  “You haven’t been wrong yet, at least about what you’ll like with sex shit, so yeah probably. I found it to be pretty fantastic.”  Evan chokes out a strangled sounding laugh and hides his face in Connor’s chest, flustered and embarrassed and Connor finds it to be utterly endearing. “Now go the fuck to sleep.  The sooner we get to New York, the sooner we deal with it all and can leave again.”

 

“We should get that book.”  Evan says into his shirt and he frowns.

 

“What book?”

 

“Go The Fuck to Sleep.”

 

He would sit up in surprise if it wouldn’t send Evan flying off of him.  He had said that off the top of his head, and now he’s finding out it’s _real?!_  “What?”  Evan just shakes against him and Connor scowls down at him even though his face is still facing his chest.  “No, seriously, it’s real?”

 

Evan nods and he huffs, this time in delight.  “I know what I want for my birthday.” He says softly, running soothing fingers through Evan’s hair and his boyfriend hums under his tender ministrations.

 

“When we wake up, I’ll do you one better.”

 

Sounds good to him.

 

### Evan

December 22

An hour outside Salt Lake City, Utah

So Early It's Inhumane

  


Oh, he wishes Connor was awake right now but it’s ass o’clock according to him so he’s passed out in the back.  Not even in the passenger seat up with Evan, no, he went to the bed with Dante. Evan isn’t sure he even wants to pull into the gas station, but he has to.  The tank is nearly empty and they won’t make it to the next station but this one only has one light that is working steadily, and only one other out of the dozen or so that works at all is flickering like someone is tapping erratically on the light bulb.

 

Definitely not a place he would be stopping were he alone, that is for sure.  Surely, his boyfriend’s death threats didn’t extend to waking him for this. “Connor.”

 

He grumbles a little in his chest, muttering something that sounds a lot like ‘fuck off’ but Evan can’t be too sure.  “Connor, we’re stopping for gas.”

 

“I don’t need a bathroom.”  The words are barely intelligible but Evan is an expert both at reading Connor and at understanding intelligible language.

 

He sighs and turns to stare at the still prone Connor.  “I’m not leaving the car alone.”

 

Maybe it’s the shaky timber in his voice, or the fact that he hasn’t had an issue with gas stations their entire trip, but Connor opens one eye fully to stare at Evan and whatever he sees in Evan’s expression is enough to have him flipping the blankets off and rolling to his knees.  “Fine.” He swings the back door open and Evan takes that as his cue to hop out as well. “Spooky.” Connor’s voice is gravely and sleep-rough but it’s like soothing music to Evan and his nerves just to know that he’s not alone right now. “‘M glad you woke me up.”

 

He leans against the car and yawns widely as Evan moves mechanically through the steps to filling the jeep’s gas tank.  “If the lot lights were all working, I would…”

 

“Don’t have to justify.”  Connor interrupts, yawning again.  He shivers and rubs at his arms. “I would’ve done the same.”  His still sleep filled eyes are darting around nervously and Evan swallows hard when he realizes Connor is scanning the shadows like Evan has been doing.

 

His body floods with relief that he isn’t being annoying, that he isn’t being overly cautious, that Connor is also unsettled by the eerie atmosphere.  The air is silent save for the flowing sound of the gas and the clicking of the mechanics involved in the act of pumping and Evan wishes he was back inside the car already.

 

“I lied.  Going to the bathroom.”  Connor pushes off of the jeep and Evan panics.

 

“No!”  Connor arches an unamused eyebrow and Evan swallows again.  He didn’t mean to yell at Connor, he just desperately doesn’t want to be alone right now.  Not here in this horrible old gas station with the barely working lights. “I mean, please wait for me?”

 

His boyfriend stares at him again, as if searching for something again, and then shrugs.  “Okay.” The hissing in the hose gives way to a loud click and both boys jump. Connor takes the pump handle and stows it while Evan closes up the valve and grips Connor’s hand with his own clammy one.

 

“Okay.”  He says and they head off towards where a faded sign points to the outside doors of the restrooms.

 

Connor draws the line at Evan going inside the single toilet room with him and Evan is left to go into the second bathroom alone.  He rushes through his business, washing his hands in record time, and is out in just under a minute, which he regrets because Connor appears to be taking his sweet time.

 

He’s just made his fifth pass along the sidewalk when the door behind him hits the wall with a bang and he whirls around to come face to face with an ashy Connor.  “I’ll drive.”

 

Evan blinks in surprise and there’s a slight breeze as Connor brushes past him quickly.  “But I’ve only been driving for half of my time.”

 

“S’okay.”  Connor is nearly running and Evan has to jog to keep up with his stride. “I’m wide awake now.”

 

“What about walking Dante?”

 

“When the sun comes up, then we’ll walk Dante.”

 

Evan is even more alarmed now.  Connor never misses the chance to walk Dante, even at night.  “What did you see in there?” He is well aware of just how shrill his voice sounds and Connor’s response is to jump into the jeep and Evan rushes to climb into the passenger seat. “Connie, what did you see?”  He doesn’t respond save for peeling out of the parking lot until they are well back on the highway.

 

He turns wide eyes to him and Evan feels something in his stomach drop.  “I don’t know. I don’t know what it was, or how to describe it, but whatever it was, all I know is that I didn’t like it.”

 

They never do figure out what exactly it was Connor had seen in the mirror that night.  Evan never saw anything and all Connor is ever able to explain to Evan is that a feeling so unsettlingly bone chilling had come over him and he swears he could see the glint of eyes and neither of them will stop at a gas station at night alone for a long time after.

### Connor

 

December 22

Cheyenne, Wyoming

Midday

 

“How...how do you miss seeing that?”

 

“Shut up, Evan.”

 

“No, I’m being serious.”  Evan does not, in fact, shut up like Connor had requested, not that he’s surprised at all.  Evan likes to talk. They are currently in a self-wash car wash and they are both laying on the wet ground with sprayers on the strongest setting with the nozzle aimed directly at the undercarriage of the Jeep.  “A dead antelope is on the road, and you hit it. It can’t even move, you can’t blame it for jumping in front of you.”

 

“Evan, seriously, shut up.”  He’s wet, cold, and miserable and the last thing he needs to hear is Evan berating him for his stupidity.

 

He still isn’t listening to him and points out ever-so-helpfully, “at least it wasn’t frozen.”

 

Connor isn’t so sure about that one.  “If it had been frozen, cleaning this would be easier.”  A large chunk of fur covered mince meat drops from between two pipes and he tries not to vomit.  When he had stopped to check what he had hit, it had been apparent that many people had run over the stupid dead antelope that sat just over the crest of a hill, completely invisible until the driver had already passed over much like he had done.

 

Revolting.

 

Also, poor antelope.

 

“But the car would be completely totalled.”  Evan points out and Connor lets his head drop back against the wet pavement.  He knows Evan has a point but this job is still smelly and gross and how can Evan talk while doing the same thing but on the other side?  He’s just as wet and gross but he doesn’t seem phased in the slightest. “And I’ve never done something like this before, so it’s kind of interesting.”

 

“That doesn’t make it fun.”  Connor snarks and he hears something fabric move against the pavement of the car wash.  He must have shrugged or something, Connor decides, and moves the nozzle very close to the last lodged bit of bone he can see.  He does not need to smell rotting animal the rest of the way to New York.

 

“No, but I’m with _you_ at least.”  Evan mumbles and Connor feels himself flush despite the cold and the smell and the sheer gross ick factor of their current activity.

 

“It’s not like this is a date.”  Connor argues weakly, and while it isn’t, he can’t imagine doing something this horrid with anyone else.

 

A huff of laughter sounds from the other side of the Jeep.  “Are you _trying_ to imagine this as a date?  At least it isn’t boring.”

 

Evan has another point.  He needs to stop making those, it’s turning Connor’s opinions around and he doesn’t approve.  He wants to stay grumpy, thank you very much. He decides not to comment on the date bits of the conversation and gestures to the undercarriage.  “Looks good to me.”

 

He watches hazel eyes scrutinize and then Evan nods his approval.  “And if not, we’ll stop and do it again.” They stand and put away the sprayers away on their hooks, taking a moment to look at each other.  

 

“I’m changing.”  Connor announces and Evan gives him an up and down.

 

“You are a bit damp.”  Evan says as if he isn’t just as dripping wet and soppy as Connor and he snorts at the flat tone Evan is using.  He doesn’t move for a moment, fixated on how the light catches the water dripping down Evan’s face and how his now wet clothing clings to him even as he stands there shivering.

 

Seeing Evan shiver reminds him of just how cold he himself is and he nearly wrenches the back door open to dive inside.  And if it takes them longer to change than usual, well, it is to be expected by this point.

 

### Evan

 

December 23

Somewhere between Omaha, Nebraska and Des Moines, Iowa

Morning

  


“Well, at least you don’t believe you’re an animal.”  Evan is the one driving now and they’ve finally reached the point of the morning where the sun is able to be hidden away by the visor and somehow, the topic of the various diagnosis they’ve been given over the years has come up.

 

Connor throws a wadded ball of McDonald’s wrapper at his head and it bounces off his ear.  “Shut up, that is not a real disorder.”

 

“It is!”  He’d throw something back but he doesn’t have anything but his water cup and he’s not throwing that.  Besides, he is the one driving. He needs to be responsible. “It’s called zoanthropy.”

 

Socked feet slide off the dash and Connor turns in the seat to face Evan.  “It isn’t. Zoanthropy is _not_ a fucking thing.”

 

“I’ll prove it.”  Evan glances in the mirrors to make sure there weren’t any semi trucks around - he might be more comfortable driving but semi trucks are still the absolute worst to drive around - and reaches out to snatch the phone out of Connor’s hands.  He makes a token protest that Evan ignores. He presses the mic on the Google search bar and speaks into the phone. “Define zoanthropy.” The phone rattles out a long paragraph defining the word as the delusion one has been somehow transformed into an animal and gives Connor a smug side-eye.   “See?”

 

Connor lets out a deep groan and slams his head back against the headrest.  “You are the _worst_ at this.”

 

“I think you mean the best.”

 

\----

 

“Eye spy something….white.”

 

“It can’t be a snow covered field, can it?”

 

Evan blinks and then grins sheepishly.  “This game _is_ rather difficult in the car.”

 

“Well...”  Connor’s voice trails off in a way that tells Evan he’s thinking about something nostalgic.  “Zoe and I used to play the license plate game on car trips.”

 

Evan wants to look over to give Connor a quizzical look but he doesn’t because they are driving through a construction zone, why there’s one in the middle of winter he’ll never understand, and not only are both directions of traffic only divided by flimsy orange reflective poles, there are semi’s behind and in front as well as passing by him on a far more frequent basis than he is comfortable with and he needs to keep his attention on the road.  However, he refuses to pull over because first, he can’t imagine trying to get back _on_ the road, and second, he does need to face his fears and he’s doing fine save for his anxiety so he can manage the last two miles before having his meltdown.

 

He doesn’t get a chance to question what the game is because the phone dings and Connor’s face lights up.  “It’s Heidi and Levi.” He tells Evan and Evan instantly shifts impatiently, wishing Connor would just read out loud instead of first to himself.

 

“She starts with hi.”  Connor announces and Evan rolls his eyes.

 

“She always says hi.  She starts every single text with ‘hello my wonderful boys, how are you?’  She’s very predictable.” The fondness he feels for both her and Levi are betrayed through his tone, however, and Connor continues to read off the message.

 

“Today we went into San Francisco and into Golden Gate Park.  He’s been begging and begging and he was so surprised when he saw the carousel I thought he was going to cry.”

 

Evan waits for more and when Connor doesn’t speak he frowns.  “Wait, that...that’s it?”

 

“Yeah.”  He sounds as perplexed as Evan feels.  The phone dings again and Connor pulls the phone up again to read.

 

“‘We just got back to the house and he just hugged me and said said, ‘thanks for today, mom’ omg I’m dead’ and I think I count about...yeah, ten crying emojis.”  There’s a fist pressed to Connor’s mouth when he finishes reading and Evan fights back his own tears, remembering his conversation with Levi he had had about home and is so thankful and glad and _absolutely delighted_ that the boy took _Evan’s own words_ to heart.  He, Evan Hansen, the boy who has always sort of blended into the background, has actually made a difference in someone’s life.

 

It’s all he’s really wanted; next to being noticed, he wants to make a difference and to matter to someone.  And it seems, he has that now. He has it in spades, and he’s really not quite sure how to process it all.

 

Maybe after a nap.

 

### Connor

 

December 23

Just past Cleveland

Late Night

 

 _Fuck, I love him_.

 

They are past the city lights of Cleveland, so he has to rely on the infrequent highway light and even more infrequent passing headlight to catch any glimpses of his sleeping boyfriend in the back bed.  He doesn’t want to turn on any of the interior lights because he doesn’t want to risk waking him but he also wants to admire his face and think about just how soft his skin is and...maybe it’s better he can’t see Evan clearly.  He should probably pay more attention to his driving.

 

He’s so proud of how Evan drove the entire fifteen miles of construction zone with barely a flinch, though as soon as Connor had taken over again Evan had taken nearly an hour to stop violently shaking from the pent up anxiety.  He had finally stopped the Wrangler and wrapped Evan up in the quilt he had brought from home he said his grandmother made and spooned with Evan in the back along with Dante until his chills were down and he could fall asleep.

 

That had been a couple of hours ago, long before Cleveland, and Evan had barely stirred even at the gas station inside the city.  He wouldn’t be surprised if Evan wakes soon. He tends not to sleep long in the car, regardless of how tired he is, and he’s already been sleeping nearly four hours.

 

Sure enough, the next time he glances back, Evan has turned onto his back and is rubbing at his eyes with a single fist.  “Hey, Baby. Sleep well?” He calls softly and smiles when he sees Evan nod jerkily.

 

He hears shuffling as the now awake Evan crawls up towards the front.  “Hey, Connie.” He says in his sleep rough voice and Connor holds a hand out to help his boyfriend over the center console and into the seat, Dante plopping his head on the armrest as Evan settles.  Connor knows he doesn’t have long for conversation, that Evan will fall asleep again now that he’s in a different location, but he’s okay with that.

 

Because he loves Evan.

 

And Evan loves him.

 

He knows Evan loves him because he sees it in everything he does, every look, every touch he gives Connor tells him just how highly Evan thinks of him.  It's going to absolutely kill him when they return and Evan sees him just for exactly what he is: a monster. He’s been so different, so much more relaxed and calm with Evan that he’s nearly forgotten just how it feels like to be so angry he thinks his skin might peel off.

 

And seeing his parents again is certain to trigger the feelings.  His hands tighten briefly on the steering wheel before he hunches down a little and sighs.  He knows of course that Evan will not let that action slide, and he feels a bit bad he’s using body language instead of verbal language right now.  

 

“What’s wrong?”  He predictably sounds so worried, it’s precious and Connor loves him even more for it.

 

He shakes his head.  “Nothing. Just worried about…”  His voice trails off when Evan touches his knee with a light hand and strokes gently with his thumb along his knee cap.

 

“Me too, Connie.  But I’m not planning on leaving you.  We’re doing this together, okay?”

 

Evan sounds so earnest, so hopeful, _so loving_ and Connor thinks that maybe, _just maybe_ , Evan won’t run away screaming as soon as reality comes crashing back around them, that maybe he’ll get to keep the part of him that makes him happiest, even when he’s feeling his darkest.

 

“Okay.”

### Evan

 

December 24

Rochester, New York

Midday

 

“So, this is the tree?”

 

“Yup.”  


Evan doesn’t want to be there, standing at the base of his most desperate hour, what he had planned as a final cry for help.  Dante’s happy presence helps, and of course Connor with his warm hand in the middle of his back, but he still feels an icy chill down his spine that has nothing to do with the cold air.

 

They stand there silently, fluffy giant flakes of snow wafting gently down around them.  Every time one comes near enough to land on his nose, he snaps at it before giving Evan a befuddled look as if asking where the white fluffy thing had vanished to.

 

“You know, if you tried that now, I’d be the one who’d have to find you.”

 

Startled, Evan turns to stare at the side of his Connor’s head.  His hair is in a long french braid today and it rests over his shoulder like he’s a some sort of gothy hipster disney princess and fuck Evan needs to rein himself in before he does something that gets them both arrested and put on _lists_ that ruin futures.  Connor refuses at first to turn and look at him, choosing instead to stare up at the uppermost branches.  Evan takes that as a sign that it’s his turn to respond. “Well.” He starts, and when blue eyes suddenly fix on his, his breath is taken away long enough he gasps sharply, but he pushes on anyway  “I’d have to find you, you know. If you were to, you know.”

 

Connor smirks a little and looks away again.  “I know.” They are silent for only a moment before Connor flips out the phone and dials a very familiar number and Evan barely has time to grasp what Connor is doing when Jamie answers.

 

Apparently, that was all the conversation to be had on the topic.

 

“Yo, you guys already back?”  He sounds surprised and Evan knows their college friend is very aware of just how against going back Connor was in the first place, let alone being back in time for a holiday that is supposed to be spent around those who love and care for you and for Connor, that isn’t his family.

 

“Yeah.”  Connor says, and it’s a very heavy resigned sort of tone.  “I’m not looking forward to this conversation, Jamie.”

 

Evan hears the man sigh on the other side and he has to mentally scold himself to stop fidgeting with his coat hem.  He digs his fingers through Dante’s fur instead.

 

“Of course you aren’t, and that’s to be expected.  Just know you have an escape.” There’s a pause and then his voice, a little higher pitched a lot more concerned, comes back through.  “You...you do have an escape plan, right?”

 

“Fuck off, of course we do.”  Connor scoffs and Jamie snorts.

 

“Can’t stop me from worrying, my dudes.”  There is muttering on the other end and then Jamie again.  “Hey, Ryan wants to know how the weed is treating you.”

 

Evan gives a thumbs up and then flushes when he remembers they can’t see him.  “Um, it’s great. We still have more than enough, so thank you.” They haven’t even finished one of the mason jars, and Evan has only gone through one of the cartridges, though the second one is nearing the end of it’s juice.

 

He’s actually honestly surprised they were never pulled over and searched with all the state lines they crossed over their trip.

 

“Perfect.”  Jamie sounds relieved and Evan knows Ryan is going to be just as happy that they are doing well despite everything going on.  “Have you decided which parent you are going to talk to first?”

 

“My mom.”  Evan says immediately and Connor nods slowly.  They hadn’t really talked much about it, but he knows already that going to the Murphy house is going to be the very last thing they do before they leave Rochester again because he knows Connor very well by now.  “She’s going to be the easiest, I think.”

 

He at least has the emails as proof she’s missed him.  Connor has nothing but voicemails screaming at him.

 

Jamie seems to agree with them and it’s a nice refreshing start to their return in the city that was once hell to both of them.  He walks them through ways to bring up tough subjects and reminds them multiple times that if at any time they need to step back in order to avoid becoming overwhelmed or angry, then they need to do so and that not only is it okay, it’s necessary for their mental well-being.

 

Evan yawns so widely it’s embarrassingly audible and Jamie snickers at him while Connor huffs.  “We’re taking a nap before we go over there. ‘Night, Jamie.” He hangs up the phone before the older boy can respond and Evan just shakes his head at his boyfriend fondly.  

 

“You are so impulsive sometimes.”  He says with a soft smile and Connor pulls him into a tight hug, burrowing his frozen face into the crook of Evan’s neck making him squeal from the icy cold.

 

“It’s only noon.”  Connor says breathily against Evan’s neck and he shudders again, this time not from the cold, but from the warmth of Connor’s breath.  “Wanna nap first and then drive to your mom’s?”

 

“Can’t make you a liar, now can we?”   He’s tired, too tired to make a real smile, but a little lazy half smile blooms and he nods towards the path.  “Just an hour or two.”

 

“Yup.”

 

And then, it will be time to face the music, so to speak.  He knows neither of them are looking forward to this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First Connor POV section has sexy talk and makeouts, but no sex. Second Connor POV has some talk on road kill and cleaning it out of the undercarriage for those squeamish about that sort of thing.


	34. Confronting the Past Pt. 1 Evan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 109  
> Dec 24
> 
> Summaries are difficult. So is the conversation in this chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay whoops. Totally underestimated just how verbose I would be with the confrontation chapter so you’ll see the final count has risen by 2. *mystical wiggly fingers*

###  Evan

 

The drive is silent save for Dante’s panting.  Neither of them feel the need to talk, not when they know they’re going to be doing more than enough talking soon enough.  He knows the way between the park and his house so well he could navigate it blindfolded, so he’s the one driving right now.  Oddly enough, he’s not nervous about the drive. No, that emotion is solely reserved for the looming confrontation with his mom and then later, probably tonight, the Murphy’s.  He might be not be exactly looking forward to the looming talk with his mother, but he is definitely dreading that interaction the most. He loves Connor, but angry yelling makes him anxious no matter who is doing the yelling and he feels like their talk won’t be calm for any single moment.

 

The driveway is empty.  He’s not sure if that is better or worse for his anxiety, the forced delay in finally facing his mom and demanding the answers Connor says they deserve, that Evan deserves.  His heart is pounding as he pulls onto the side of the drive he knows she doesn’t use, or at least she never used to use before he left but he’s been gone so maybe that’s changed but he’s not taking the time to move the car now.  Their feet tap and Dante’s toes click as they make their way up the entry walkway and Evan is surprised when his key still works smoothly.

 

He’s almost expecting someone to yell and holler at him when the door swings inward, but all he hears are the slightly rusted front door hinges screaming like a witch being boiled in oil.   Clutching Connor’s hand, Evan takes the first steps into the house, each one becoming easier and steadier. They are both silent as Evan takes it all in, how everything is the same yet somehow so very different at the same time.  There are still his school portraits lining the upstairs hallway, still his mom’s favorite photos of him over the years decorating the other walls though now that he thinks about it, the wall seems to have doubled in the number displayed.   He hesitates to admit to himself that he had assumed she would have rid herself of any and all reminders of him only he’s faced now with the undeniable proof that she  _ did _ miss him.

 

A lot.

 

He could dismiss all of her emails as a way of manipulation designed to drag him home, but this…this wall?  A wall he could not see were he not here physically in front of it? If this almost art museum like display is any indication, having Evan _ out  _ of her life was the worst thing that ever happened to her and he’s not sure what to do with this sort of visual proof.  If they had talked before, when he was still bitter and angry at her, he probably would have shouted at her something about being broken, probably something about being the worst part of her life, how she regrets having him in the first place, maybe even something about how she wishes she could do what his father did and leave him.

 

But now?

 

Now he’s not sure what he’s going to say.  Or what he’s going to do. Everything feels a bit topsy turvy, just enough that his emotions are out of sync and off balance and he’s floundering without a lifeboat.  He feels Dante’s nose press into the back of his knee and one corner of his mouth quirks up in a brief smile as the cold pressure grounds him back to reality and he reaches down to rub at the dog’s ears in an effort to relax himself.

 

It’s not working.

 

“Dude, that’s serial killer level.”  Evan jumps at Connor’s voice. He’s not sure why he’s startled, he knows Connor is there. 

 

“Connor, really?”

 

“Really.”  He is deadpan and one eyebrow is arched and Evan rolls his eyes.

 

Dante stands suddenly, hackles on his shoulders rising and Evan’s heart jumps and his breathing shallows. The dog lets out a sudden, loud single bark just before the unmistakable sound of the front door sounds throughout the house.  There are voices other than his mother’s but he only acknowledges hers because her timid, watery ‘Evan?’ actually breaks his heart and he nearly trips as he bolts down the stairs to where his mom is waiting. Connor follows, and Dante is trotting next to Evan as if sensing his distress and determined to prevent more.  

 

He stops just after rounding the corner of the entryway hallway, stunned to see not just Heidi, but if Connor’s exhaled ‘what the...?’ is any indication, both Cynthia and Larry along with Zoe and Jared standing in the foyer of  _ his _ house and it  _ isn’t _ a hallucination.

 

There’s a brief moment where all seven of them are frozen in various states of shock and amazement before, “What the  _ fuck _ are  _ you _ doing here?”  Connors voice is harsh, sharp, and a lot colder than Evan is used to hearing.

 

Evan doesn’t have to turn around to see just how much emotion Connor is holding back at the moment, most of it anger and fear.  He can almost feel it radiating from him and shifts their joined hands so he can stroke at Connor’s palm with a finger.

 

He barely thinks of the consequences when he turns enough to press a quick kiss to the corner of his boyfriend’s mouth.  When Connor quirks a half smile at him through the fearful expression, he kisses the other side and whispers, “I love you, Connie.”  The lines surrounding his eyes soften further in response and it helps Evan turn back to face those they ran from, each now staring at them in varying degrees of shock.  “My boy...my boyfriend makes a ...he asks a valid question.” He says to them quietly. “We were...my mom was...no one else…”

 

“This isn’t your home.”  Connor snaps, and while the Murphy’s all flinch away from him, Evan  turns again, this time to press a grateful kiss to his shoulder. He has a protector now, someone who isn’t afraid to speak up when Evan can’t bear to, and he's more than grateful for it.  “Why the fuck are you here at someone else’s house?” Something skin crawling dawns on him - something he hopes he’s very wrong about - at the same time Connor’s raised voice asks, “did you guys become  _ friends _ over this?  Over...over us  _ vanishing _ ?  What the fuck is  _ wrong _ with you?  You’re disgusting!”

 

Their silence is proof enough for Connor to continue to yell and rage almost incoherently about it until Dante attempts to push his nose into the palm of the hand making a fist and Connor unfolds his hand and his entire posture relaxes as he pets the dog.  Evan smiles a little at the abrupt silence from his boyfriend, always amused at how easily the dog can get through to him to help calm him down.

 

Zoe’s reaction might be the funniest out of them all.  Her jaw is dropped open, something Evan had previously assumed only happens in stories, and she appears to be barely breathing.  Cynthia has both of her hands clapped over her mouth while Larry is standing there with both arms crossed and an eyebrow raised giving off alarmed expression.  Jared just looks bored and his mom is giving him a look of...what, pride? What does she have to be proud of?

 

Jared is the first to break the silent staredown.  “So, you two fuckers gonna apologize for running away on us or something?”

 

If there’s one thing Evan has learned from watching Connor interact with idiots is that sometimes a dead eyed stare is better than a stuttered denial and he employs what he can only assume is his best imitation of Connor yet because Jared’s words come screeching to a halt.

 

“That was a  _ joke _ .”  Jared bites out and Evan just continues to stare at him blankly.  He pales a bit and Evan feels a stab of satisfaction that for once, he’s the one having that effect on Jared, that Jared is this unsettled because of something Evan is doing.

 

“Was it?”  He says flatly, and to his satisfaction his family friend’s white face suddenly flushes deeply.  Good. “Because it wasn’t...it didn’t sound like one. None of the, none of your jokes, they  _ never _ sound like jokes.”

 

“Oh please.  I know you don’t think that.”  He sounds confident with his words, but there’s a bare hint of a waver that is one of Jared’s tells that he’s hiding, he’s covering something that he doesn’t want Evan to see, and it’s the tone that brings out his claws.  If Jared wants to play this game, Evan will bite. Evan isn’t afraid of having no one, no any more. He has Connor, he has Jamie and Ryan, he has Heidi and Levi, and losing one family friend because he demonstrates he has a spine isn’t going to make or break his life.

 

Not any more.

 

“You’re a terrible liar.” Evan knows he's not really being fair but at this point he just doesn't care.  “You always have been.”

 

He knows his backbone is what is driving Jared back into silence at the moment.  He knows the boy who was once his best friend is struggling to understand where this Evan came from and he likes that Jared is both curious and afraid of it.  It feels good to be on the other side of this exchange for once.

 

“I’m only going to say this once.”  Jared blurts and Evan narrows his eyes, his arms coming up to cross his chest, fully ready for whatever half assed apology Jared deems appropriate.

 

“Okay?”  Evan nudges verbally when Jared doesn’t continue.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

He blinks, taken aback.  It’s the fakest sounding apology he’s ever heard in his life, flat and devoid of all emotion.  “Not accepted.” Maybe if he thought the apology was genuine, he’d have had a different response.

 

The horrified outrage is almost comical.  “What? Why the  _ fuck _ would you…”

 

It’s easy to interrupt him.  “You...you made fun of...of...of me for falling from the tree.”

 

“Yes, and?” Jared’s reply is a tiny bit sheepish but mostly defensive.  

 

And Evan is just getting started, so Jared had either better have a ton of excuses or he’s going to need to start owning up to shit.  “You shouted to the entire hallway that my broken arm was because I had been jacking off.” It’s been awhile since his words ran together in one breath during normal conversation but it’s better than the incencent stammering.

 

“Well, to be fair, you had a  _ substantial _ crush on Zo…”

 

“I didn’t...I didn't fall, I jumped.  I jumped with the intention of...of not dealing with the aftermath.”

 

One could hear a pin drop in the silence that follows and he refuses to look at his mother, keeping his gaze instead fixed firmly on Jared’s white, ashy face.

 

“And then...and then you called m...called me an acorn.”  Evan’s smile even feels sharp and unforgiving and how the other boy won’t even look him in the eye tells him he’s definitely succeeding at being rather scary and he kind of likes it.  “Tell me, how...how likely would it have been that you, that you would have, that you would have continued to call me Acorn on a regular basis had Connor and I stayed?” He can still hear Jared’s mocking laughter from that first day all those months ago and with the boy right in front of him, the hurt is as fresh as that day.

 

Jared’s continued silence is telling.  Evan takes a deep breath, steeling himself to say what he’s been wanting to say for months.  “It would...it would have been better to just tell me we weren't friends. I wish I had talked to Connor a long time ago.  I would have had a friend a lot sooner.”

 

It is this that breaks Jared’s self imposed silence.  “I’ve been your best friend since we were in diapers!”  He shouts, fists clenching so hard they are white knuckled, and Evan takes an involuntary step back from the force of his yelling.  “I’ve always been there for you!”

 

Evan actually laughs at that, cold and harsh and it makes Jared wince and look away.  “Name one time,  _ one time  _ you were  _ actually _ there for me!  Really and truly there for me, without any of your stupid jokes or comments about car insurance and what you want me to do to pay you back for your time?”  He’s pissed, he’s so very pissed that Jared is turning this around on him, and maybe he should be angry more often because his stammer is vanishing under his irritation.

 

Angry eyes swing back to look at Evan again.  “When you had to repeat eighth grade, I purposely failed every single class my freshman year so you would be in my classes again!”  Jared is almost screaming now, and Evan has to wipe away droplets of saliva off his face. He’s a little shellshocked with Jared’s announcement, but it doesn’t really change how he’s feeling about his family friend, not really.

 

Based on Connor’s twitching eyelid and fidgeting fingers, it’s clear that he wants to punch Jared in the face and honestly, Evan doesn’t blame him, but they’re also trying to get not only answers but the website down and punching people won’t help either goal.  “Not worth it, Connie.” He mumbles and he can hear Connor’s low growl of frustration, but Evan knows Jared and how to handle him and kicking his ass isn’t going to do it. 

 

He laughs at Jared again, though it can hardly be called such, and it’s such an eerily uncomfortable sound that it sends a discomfiting chill down even his spine.  “How would I have ever known that? You stopped talking to me completely when they put me into inpatient. You didn’t, you never visited or wrote or even called.”

 

“They wouldn’t…”

 

“They would.”  His tone is full of bite and venom and Jared’s face is twitching with every acerbic word.  “I know because I asked them every single mail delivery, every single visitors day,  _ every single computer room hour I was scheduled. _  I asked, I asked and they said... they said that you were more than welcome to visit so long...all you had to do was pass the detectors with my mom because having a friend visit was considered part of my recovery and that anyone could call or email me and..and I made sure my mom...I told her and she said...she said she told you.  She told you and you laughed and said yeah maybe, if you had time.”

 

Jared is silent again.  He refuses to look him in the eye still and Evan feels hollow at the blank expression on his once best friend’s face.  When it’s clear the other teen isn’t going to speak, Evan continues. “I came home and had to...I was only….You wouldn’t let me…”  He pauses and swallows hard, allowing his thoughts to catch up with each other so he can get the full sentence out. “I could still only talk to you when we were inside one of our houses, like nothing had changed, like I hadn’t been in the mental hospital for months.  And then when we got to high school, you…you…” He can’t continue through the tightness in his throat.

 

Miraculously, those are the words that break Jared’s pursed lipped silence and he bites out in a tone so bitter Evan can almost smell coffee.  “I lost most of my friends for you and in return…”

 

“In return I was a mentally ill kid who desperately needed someone on his side for once, someone who would remember how fragile I was?”  Evan cuts him off with a soft involuntary cry of anguish at the memory of just how lonely he felt during those days. “Do you remember  _ why _ they hospitalized me, Jared?”

 

He scoffs and rolls his eyes.  “Something about your daddy issues.”  His tone is dismissive, and it hurts. It strikes Evan deep and it hurts and he kind of hates himself that he even cares a little anymore about what Jared thinks of him.  He’s known for years just how much Jared doesn’t care, and all this talk isn’t helping him think any differently of Jared and his actions, let’s be honest.

 

“Jared!”  It seems that Heidi finally finds her voice and Evan feels a little warm at the sharp reprimand.  She looks appalled and a little disgusted and when Evan glances back at Jared, he is white-faced and ashamed and staring straight down at his black and white Vans.  He knows Jared remembers why, because Evan had woken up to see Jared’s worried face quickly turn scornful when he saw Evan awake.

 

The Murphy’s are wide eyed and none of them can seem to decide which of the others they’re going to stare at.  Zoe keeps looking between Evan and Connor and Jared while Cynthia can barely seem to look at her son without weeping and Larry…

 

Larry is staring at the ground with his hands jammed in his pockets and elbows locked so his shoulders are hunched up by his ears, and Evan would laugh at just how Connor-like the motion is were he not so very aware of just how hysterical his laugh sounds at the moment.  He wonders if Larry suffers from the same mental health issues as Connor only without acknowledgement or help. It would make sense, if what Connor shares about his home life isn’t exaggerated too terribly like he has a tendency to do when on a rant, but Evan isn’t about to be the one to bring it up.

 

The hand holding his moves to rest on the small of his back and he smiles involuntarily at the familiar touch.  He hooks a finger in Connor’s pocket and leans his head against his shoulder to help draw strength to keep breathing.  He’s tired of talking, tired of bearing his soul, and tired of being dismissed. If Jared won’t  _ truly _ apologize, if Jared can’t admit he was, is, and has been in the wrong, then Evan has no interest in salvaging the friendship.

 

Being with Connor has taught him a lot, and one of the more important lessons Evan had needed to learn was not to be a doormat, that it’s okay to stand up for himself if he’s feeling slighted or hurt by someone.  At least, it’s a little easier than it had been before, because he has Connor helping him. He wouldn't be saying any of this to Jared were Connor not right there next to him. “You haven’t...you haven’t...you haven’t been my friend since eighth grade, Jared.  And even longer.”

 

“Evan, that’s a bit harsh honey.”  Heidi steps in again, and not for Evan but for Jared.

 

Of course.  Of course she’s not going to be on his side.  Even after all of that back and forth, after hearing all of this from him, she’s still going to be on Jared’s side.  “Really, Mom?” Then again, he left partially because she was neglecting his emotional needs so it's not too far off for him to think she has no idea what she’s really doing when she steps in like that for someone other than him.  “I tried to...I tried to kill myself and my  _ only  _ friend decides...he decides that I’m not worth...that it wasn’t worth visiting, and when I bring it up  _ I’m  _ the one going too far?”

 

“I was terrified!”  Jared shouts and the room freezes again.  He’s hunched over himself and holding himself across his chest like he’s protecting something and Evan thinks he might be physically protecting something metaphorical.  “If you could do that even with me around...if I wasn’t enough...if I lost my best friend, I couldn't...I wouldn’t be able to…”

 

“So you acted like a jackass to him?”  Connor sounds incredulous, and Evan doesn’t blame him.  He feels the way Connor sounds, conflicted and angry and numb at the same time because Jared’s excuses don’t make any sense to him.  “You pushed him away anyway? Because you were scared, you made a suicidal kid feel like shit about himself? Guess what? You lost him anyway you fucking retard.”

 

Evan winces at the word choice and thinks they might need to talk about appropriate language even when pissed off.  No need to delve into that kind of name calling. “Phrasing please, Connor.” He mutters and Connor sighs heavily through his nose and Evan knows had anyone else said anything, he would have exploded.  He smirks a little at the thought of just how much of an exception he is when it comes to the behavior of one Connor Murphy.

 

“You fucking idiot.”  He corrects tightly and Evan snorts at the bitter expression he’s wearing now.

 

“Bit better.”  He ignores the two older Murphy’s gaping at him openly.  He needs all his emotional fortitude for this ridiculous exchange with Jared.

 

“What, I should’ve stood by and watched as you slowly killed yourself?”  There’s an edge to Jared’s tone that hadn’t been there earlier. “Waited on you hand and foot?  Put aside my own social and academic goals for you?”

 

Evan doesn’t get to reply to that, as much as he wants to, because Connor jumps in again before he can even fully think through a response.

 

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Kleinman?”  He takes a heavy step forward and Jared takes one back.  “You can support your best friend while still living for yourself, god.  It just takes some effort. Or is that too much for you to manage?”

 

Jared’s mouth is opening and closing like a fish, clearly at a loss of words for a full response, and Evan sighs, deep and heavy.  “It’s fine, Connor. He doesn’t need to justify himself.”

 

“Yes he does!”

 

“Do  _ you _ ?”

 

Connor snaps his mouth shut and glares at him and he just stares back calmly.  The glare isn’t one of his angry ones, it’s the one he gives when Evan is right and Connor just doesn’t want to admit it.  “Fine.” He bites out and he smirks at the squinty eyed look of irritation on Connor’s face.

 

“Wait, no, not fine.”  Zoe breaks her silence with a hiss and Evan ducks out of the way of her hand moving to shove or touch or something and just because he welcomes one Murphy’s touch doesn’t mean he wants the rest of them to touch him as well.  “Where was Evan when Jared was having his own mental breakdowns in high school? You were supposed to be his best friend! He has anxiety levels higher than most people I know! Where were  _ you _ supporting  _ him _ ?”  He’s not unaware of how the Murphy parents are stepping back again, this time from their daughter, and wonders just how much of a temper she has hidden because that was a reaction he expects towards Connor, not the girl he used to watch play in Jazz band. 

 

He puts his thoughts away and tries to stay in the current conversation.  All he really wants is to talk to his mom, deal with the website, and go to bed.  Jeep, his room, Connor’s room, a hotel, he’s not too fussed at the moment. “Being ignored.”  Evan said flatly, arms crossing over his chest. Seriously, was she not listening to him? “It’s not like Jared came to me and said “Hey, Ev.  Sorry for being a dick. Turn...turns out I...I also have anxiety and maybe I...I should...I shouldn’t have been such an... an ass making fun of you for your own social anxiety” and then I...I bullied him.  He never said anything!”

 

“Probably too scared.”  Connor points out and Evan nods sagely.  “I can’t imagine why, though. You wouldn’t have said nearly the same shit he said to you.  You probably would have immediately handed him pamphlets on self-care and calm down strategies.”

 

“Ah, but remember what Jamie said, Connie.”  He’s relaxing through this little exchange, and finding it terribly amusing if only for the expressions of shock mixed with terror on each person’s face around them.  They don’t know the Connor he knows and he’s never felt so  _ badass  _ before.  He knows he’s being ridiculous, but he can’t help how he feels.  “If you’re scared of someone reacting a certain way, look at yourself because that’s probably how you would react.”

 

“Ha!”  Connor releases a genuine bark of laughter that quickly devolves into hysterical laughter, hands coming up to splay over his stomach before crossing over his chest, one hand grabbing at a pec as he lost himself in his laughter.  “Whoo boy.” He wipes the moisture from his eyes. “Yeah I can definitely understand his fear then, he’s a fucking ass.” Evan could tell Connor to be nice, but he’s only saying what Evan is thinking, so why would he? Jared makes to talk but Connor just puts a finger over his lips and shushes him.  “Shut up. It’s no longer your turn to talk.”

 

“Can we sit?”  Heidi interjects and both he and Connor turn to look at her.  Her eyes are wet and sad and Evan feels his resolve to stay strong and firm and stand up for himself is wavering at the sight of those tears.  She doesn’t cry, not around him, and to see them there is jarring to say the least. “Or continue this in the living room at the very least?”

 

Evan doesn’t bother to respond, he just turns on his heel and stalks his way down and into the small family room adjacent to the kitchen.  Dante trots along next to him, glancing back every so often as if to see if the other people were still there and following. Connor doesn’t budge from his position at Evan’s side, and for that he is so very grateful.  He’s not sure he could handle everything today without Connor.

 

Heidi is looking at him like she wants to throw herself at him (and he’s not sure if it’s to hug him or throttle him) and the look has only intensified from the entry to where they choose to stand in the living room.  He wants to laugh at the sight of all of them standing. She had requested to move here to sit, yet she and no one else is doing so.

 

Standing does make it easier to flee should everything go south.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heidi’s talk is next, along with the Murphy Parentals. It’ll be split between Evan and Connor's POV and then the third part will be all Connor.


	35. Confronting the Past Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summaries are difficult. So are the conversations in this chapter part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s so long, I’m so sorry. No, not really. Enjoy!

###  Evan

The atmosphere in the living room is uncomfortable to say the least.  He wants to say something to fill the haunting stillness, something at all to take away the hot stiffness in the air, but every word sticks in his throat so he stops trying.  He decides instead to stare at the floor, not wanting to see whatever sad look his mother is giving him, nor the betrayed sort of glare Jared hasn’t stopped shooting him, or the glances of absolute confusion from Murphy’s who don’t seem to know how to respond to him or Connor.

 

Cynthia hasn’t stopped crying in some fashion whether it’s full on weeping or just water seeping from her eyelids and Larry keeps staring at Connor without actually staring at him.  Evan isn’t sure how he’s managing that to be honest. And Zoe still looks torn between hugging or throttling her brother. Evan hopes for hugs because his poor emotions cannot take any sort of violent displays at the moment though with everything he’s heard about the Murphy’s and their ‘talks’ he doesn’t have too much hope in that regard.

 

Connor breaks the silence with a voice so broken, so resigned it makes Evan want to cry.  “So. When did you know we were gone?” Connor tugs his boyfriend closer, and some of his anxiety huffs out of him when Connor buries his face in his neck, long brown hair tangled from a lack of showers over the last couple of days dangling over his shoulder and brushing against his skin.  Connor’s weight is comforting and he allows it to help ground him and braces himself for whatever answer they’re about to hear.

 

“Oh Evan, I knew that first night.”  Heidi blurts out before anyone else can talk, and it’s in a frantic enough tone that it’s like a rush of cold water when he realizes just where he gets some of his more anxious traits from and isn’t that a revelation and a half.  “I always come and check on you between class and work, even if just to see the lights are on or you moving about the house.” 

 

His stomach sinks and twists at the haunted look in her eyes, the way her fingers pull at each other, and he’s recognizing more and more his own anxiety fidgets in his mom and he doesn’t know what to say or do right now because she  _ checked on him _ .  Even the days she didn’t talk to him, she still came to make sure he was okay and what is he supposed to do now?  “When I saw nothing, no lights no movement, I tore the house apart. When I couldn’t find that quilt, the one your grandmother gave you that you love so dearly, I knew you had gone.  I just didn’t know if you had run away or left to...to…” She doesn’t continue and Evan stares at her in disbelief because  _ she had noticed the first fucking night _ .

 

His fingers shake as the trail up Connor’s arm so he can wrap a hand around his forearm for comfort.  He’s hugging his boyfriend’s arm like it’s a lifeline, and right now, it really is. “You...you checked...you check on me?”  He hates how small, how tiny he sounds right now, like a small boy wanting reassurance, but he needs it so badly he wants to scream.  

 

She looks hurt, deeply hurt that he could even  _ think _ she would do anything otherwise, and the overwhelming depth of sadness in her eyes makes him look away from her.  He can barely handle his own emotions, let alone adding on his mother’s, and all her look is doing is piling on guilt and he doesn’t want to deal with that.  “Of...Of course I do Evan. Even though I am unbelievably busy, I still love you and want to make sure you’re okay.”

 

“But.”  He can’t wrap his head around the idea that she actually checked on him nightly, and feels a sudden surge of anger and it bolsters his courage to speak out.  “You checked on me, but you couldn't take a moment to...you couldn’t say hi?” He steps forward and she steps back, away from his advance, away from his burst of anger.  “I never saw you, ever, because of how busy you were, and now you’re telling me you could’ve at least seen me briefly?”

 

“Evan, I couldn’t…”

 

“Not even a phone call saying, ‘hey Honey, just driving by and saying I love you’?”  He interrupts her, he never interrupts her, but he’s too confuddled to even think about being polite and waiting for her to finish talking.  “You rarely ever even  _ texted  _ me, how am I supposed to feel about all of this, about knowing we could have at least  _ talked _ more!?”

 

He can’t explain just how betrayed, just how hurt he feels knowing this, and the hurt only deepens when she sighs.  “Sometimes that drive will be my only break that day and it's everything in me to not go inside and sleep when I have a migraine and I'm hungry and I haven't slept in three days or seen my son in over a week...But I can’t.” She admits softly, her voice tapering to a tear filled whisper at the end, and he wilts hearing that.  “Evan, I’ve been trying my best.” Her own voice is small and filled with pain and he scoffs but it’s light, and barely audible and his heart isn't at all in it.

 

“I know.”  He shakes his head at her look of hope.  He has to say this, he has to get this out.  “But... can’t you see just a little bit that maybe what I needed wasn’t you to be working all the time, but for you to be home when I was at least once in awhile.  Dad left and I never saw him again. And then...and then my mom left, too, even after promising she wouldn’t. Only...only we were still living in the same house. And...and even after eighth grade, after all that, you still kept your schedule, still kept yourself so busy I  _ knew _ whatever I felt didn’t matter and…”

 

“Oh, Evan, no.  Honey, no.” She interrupts and moves as if she’s going to embrace him.

 

He presses himself into Connor and her face crumples but she halts. “Then why, Mom?”  It’s all he can manage before his throat closes from emotion again. 

 

She stands there silently for such a long time Evan opens his mouth to break the silence.  But then she does speak, and when she does, her voice is tiny and small and so very quiet. “I’ll never forget how you asked me  _ when  _ I was going to leave, too.”

 

He closes his mouth and then his eyes as the memory floods over him, confusion and pain fresh as the day it happened.  The day his dad came with a huge U-Haul truck and packed it up, the day he tried to teach little seven year old Evan how to load a truck so it wouldn’t tip over when making turns, how to stack boxes so they wouldn’t collapse, and even let him sit in the front seat and pretend to drive.  He had waved wildly at the truck as it drove off, thinking Dad would return soon enough.

 

But then that night when he asked his mom when Dad was coming to read his story, she had blinked away the tears - he remembers the tears vividly because he hadn’t seen them like this before - and she said that his dad wouldn't be reading him any more stories, that his dad had moved to Colorado to be with a new family, and his heart had shattered.  He’ll never forget how it felt, knowing that his father only saw worth in teaching him something as he was leaving him behind. He’ll never forget because he never stops feeling it, the pain, the raw ache that is the feeling of being unlovable. It is part of what made giving Mark the slip in Wolf Creek so delightful, the feeling of pulling one over him, of causing some sort of irritation in his life as just a bare fraction of the payback he feels he deserves.

 

“It was the second night I read you your bedtime story instead of Mark, and at the end, before I could turn the light on, you grabbed my arm and pleaded with me not to leave, too.”  The tears are running down her cheeks and he’s unaware of his own until her hands come up to cup his cheeks and wipe the moisture away with her thumbs. He leans into the touch and closes his eyes once again.  “Neighbors were moving and you were terrified that the truck was there to come and take me away from you, like the U-Haul came and took your dad. You couldn’t seem to understand that it wasn’t the truck that took him away, it was he who up and left us.”  He doesn’t whine when her hand leaves his face, but it’s a near thing.

 

He remembers her very pointedly not leaving him alone for months after Mark had gone.  She slept on his double bed with him until he could go to sleep without her there in the room with him.  He remembers taking another month or so to stop panicking every single morning he woke and she wasn’t there in his bed.

 

It’s the strength in her voice that draws his attention back to her.  “Maybe I made the wrong choice sometimes, but not always Evan. Most of the time when I would stop by the house, it would be a 15 second slow drive by and I would still be late for my shift or for my lecture. And most of the time, I was eating during the drive because I hadn't had any other chance that day.”  Her posture is defensive and he hates how he both wants to comfort her and scream at her. “After everything that happened your eighth grade year, I tried to cut my hours to help you, but the only way I could have done that was if Mark stepped up and you know how he is.” He does. He does know how his father is and it makes him want to vomit knowing his mom had to deal with Mark on top of everything else that year.  “I took every shift I could because if I hadn’t, we would have fallen behind on paying all our hospital bills and lost the house and then how could I take care of you?”

 

He knows the struggles she’s had getting his father to pay any sort of child support, and the moment he turned eighteen those payments stopped.  He also knows just how expensive he had been on her and realizes that there had been a couple of days before his leap off the tree where she had actually been around and he wonders now if she had finally finished paying it all off from eighth grade only to have yet another expensive hospital bill come across her checkbook.  Heart heavy, he drops his eyes so he doesn’t have to see her hurt eyes, her sad expression, and tries to think of something to respond with that can convey any of the confused guilty emotions swirling around him. 

 

It’s clear as day now, just how wrong he’s been about his mom and her motivations and desires.  Everything she’s done has been for him. The only thing missing was her actually  _ telling _ Evan this.  “I’m sorry.” He whispers, and Connor tugs on his hand sharply.

 

“Why are you sorry?”  He sounds a little upset and Evan can probably guess why but he can’t answer him right now.  He needs his mom to know he  _ gets it now _ .  He understands.  He doesn’t like it, but he can understand it and that’s all he needs right now.

 

He ignores Connor and steps towards his mom, who responds with a half step forward and her arms lift and before he can blink, before he can react, she grips him up in a tight hug, sobbing into his chest.  Since when was he this much taller than her? His own hands come up slowly and find purchase bunched in the back fabric of her sweater as he buries his face into her fluffy, sweet smelling hair, a scent that hasn't changed since he was small, and he lets his tears go.  It’s been so long, years, since she’s held him like this,

 

When he finally manages to speak, his voice is muffled and thick from his emotions. “I’m, I’m sorry for not talking to you first.”  And he is. He's so terribly, desperately remorseful that he never even told her how he was feeling, he just assumed she knew and didn't care and he did it all without communicating and how can he be so good at talking to Connor and not to his mother?  She doesn't deserve that at all. 

 

“Oh Evan.”  She gasps out and the hands over his back tighten.  “You don't need to be sorry for that.  _ I’m _ sorry for not making you feel like you  _ could _ talk to me.”  She pulls back and smiles at him, and he tries to smile back, but everything is overwhelming enough that it’s hard to muster more than a quick quirk of the lips.   “And it’s not all bad. In fact, it seems to have been good for you.” He doesn’t miss her pointed look at Connor nor the sweeping up and down she gives him in his tight black jeans and soft grey cable sweater and he knows that his style choices combined with his rather hip haircut, he doesn’t resemble the boy who ran away in the slightest.

 

He glances again over at Connor, who has a little smirk playing at his mouth that makes Evan want to stick his tongue out at him.  He doesn’t, of course, because he is an adult. An adult still in high school, but legally an adult at least and that means not making faces at one’s boyfriend.

 

He blows a raspberry anyway and Connor snorts.  “Yeah, I’ve been a great influence on you.” He says dryly and Evan rolls his eyes.

 

“I’m going to pretend you were serious and agree with you.”  He says imperiously and very pointedly turns back to his mom and grins a little at her misty eyed expression as she watches them interacting.  He allows her to grab at one of his hands with both of hers and he feels his cheeks heat when Connor gives him a slow wink that is absolutely designed to fluster him.  “He’s the best choice I’ve made, Mom.” There’s a noise of surprise from the Murphy side of the room, soft and feminine, but he doesn’t turn to check who it was because he’s being hugged again.

 

His returning of the embrace comes quicker this time.   She’s warm and soft and feels like home and it’s something he hasn’t felt here in years.  “You leaving again, aren’t you?” He looks away from her very visible hope that he is  _ staying _ because how can he answer that question truthfully without breaking her heart, that they were planning on leaving as soon as they were done talking?  Except he’s not so sure now about leaving just as soon as they return, not now that he’s understanding more about his mom and wants more of a chance to maybe rebuild their relationship but he can’t make that choice without Connor.

 

Correction.

 

He  _ won’t _ make that choice without Connor.  He very much could, he is his own person after all, but he and Connor are a team and he has no intention of ever separating the team and that making a huge decisions like that alone certainly would cause a divide, to put it lightly.  He does, however, sit with her on the sofa after catching Connor’s gaze and receiving a smile and a nod to follow his mom along with a motion that Evan interprets as Connor’s going to finally talk to his own parents and readies himself to jump up at any point should his boyfriend need the support.

 

He tries not to worry what Connor could be subtly saying by  _ not _ wanting him there.  Connor has never given him a reason to doubt his love, so he shouldn’t start now.  He worries instead with just exactly  _ how _ to actually hold a conversation with his mom.

 

###  Connor

 

He thought he would have wanted Evan standing with him when he talks to his own parents, but now that the moment has arrived he doesn’t want Evan, his sweet sarcastic sensitive Evan, anywhere near the shit storm that is sure to fall upon them all any moment.  He’d leave Evan in California if it meant he didn't have to witness World War 3 in his living room. He and Larry don’t exactly have a track record of  _ quiet _ arguments, not if the many noise complaints from neighbors say anything about it.

 

“So.”  He starts flatly, and smirks a little at their flinch backs from his dead ass stare.  “You seriously befriended the mom of the other missing kid.” Connor cannot believe the gall of his mother.  “What, you swooped in during her moment of true grief to play the part of grieving mother so no one could doubt just how good of a parent you are?”  He’s not stupid, he knows exactly what his parents are playing at. It’s what they always play at, what they’re always concerned over - just how they look to the other parents that are always watching.

 

“That is not how it happened Connor.”  Cynthia says in her most patient,  _ I don't want to piss you off _ tone that inevitably will piss him off because of how patronizing it sounds.

 

He slashes a hand sharply through the air, ending in a clenched fist by his waist.  “Then what? Because you sure as hell didn’t miss me.”

 

“I did!”  She cries and he scoffs loudly, arms folding tightly over his chest.

 

Absently, he thinks that Jamie would tell him to stop putting up visible walls and he flips off the mental projection of his friend.   “Bullshit. Fucking cut the bullshit.”

 

But she looks broken, far more broken than she’s ever looked when it came to some drama surrounding him, and maybe there could be some truth in her words but words words words that’s all they are.  Words aren’t actions, and he’s seen a lot more that proves otherwise.

 

She makes to answer, but stops when Larry puts a hand gently on her arm and leaning down to whisper.  When he turns to Connor, he has adopted a far quieter, calmer tone than he’s ever used with Connor and it’s jarring and unsettling.  “We started talking after it came to our collective attentions that our sons were both missing.” He looks mildly uncomfortable when he adds, “not to mention our daughter is dating a boy close to her.  We met before we knew Evan was missing, too.” There is a story there that makes Larry so very uncomfortable and were Connor in a better state of mind, he’d probably ask about it. It’s all he can do right now, however, to not just collapse into a ball of anxiety and screaming so he puts it aside for now.

 

“And yes.”  Cynthia blurts out and the distress her voice is in is begging him to look at her but he can’t stop gaping openly at his dad.  That was basically a declaration of love for him. “I was  _ grieving _ because I thought you had gone off to  _ die alone _ , like I wouldn’t care if you vanished, like my heart wouldn’t break finding you’ve died.”

 

“Fuck off!”  The expletive bursts from him and he feels the panic rising more, swirling in his gut.  He doesn’t like this, this isn’t what he was expecting, he didn’t think his parents gave a shit at all about him and he doesn’t want to have to change his view of them.  “You’re just saying this!” Except he does. He desperately wants this to be genuine.

 

“Connor, she didn’t stop crying until she got that stupid credit card bill.”  Zoe snaps and it’s her harsh, grating tone that he hates but it’s that irritation that breaks off his spiraling.  He had forgotten about using his mother’s card to buy all their supplies and hadn’t even thought about the fact that she would receive a statement with purchases and of course would notice a few thousand dollar transaction from R.E.I. that she hadn’t made.  “Which you are so paying back, asshole. I can’t believe…”

 

“Zoe, will you and Jared please go over to Heidi and Evan so we can talk with Connor alone please?”  Cynthia interrupts sweetly and the sickening panic only grows. He can barely hear over the sound of his own breathing.  No one takes his side in things, no one. He’s never once had them talk to him one on one, there’s always been an audience and they just let Zoe bowl over him without acknowledging any of her part and that’s always been part of his resentment and nothing is going the way he thought it would and he can’t handle this, he needs to leave, he needs to run…He startles when his cold, clammy, shaking hand is suddenly enveloped in warm, soft hands he instantly recognizes as Evan.  He’s an idiot, trying this without his main support.

 

“You’re not an idiot, Connie.”  He looks over to scowl and Evan grins in response.  “You didn’t say anything but I know you.”

 

Simple words, from a complex boy he loves dearly, and it never ceases to amaze him just how much of a comfort Evan is.  “Stay?”

 

“Always.”  Comes the immediate response and he winces when he hears a soft coo croon from near him.

 

“ _ Mom _ .”  He growls and she giggles.

 

“I’m sorry, it’s just...You two are adorable.”

 

His scowl is genuine and he folds his arms again over his chest tightly.  “Fuck off, no we aren’t.”

 

“I think we are  _ very _ adorable.”  Evan chirps and he nudges Connor with a sharp, pokey elbow he tries to dodge.  Evan’s elbow pokes hurt, even when he’s being careful.

 

“But my mom doesn’t need to say it.”  He’s very aware of how petulant he sounds, thank you, and he doesn’t care either.  He’s not like Evan. He isn’t going to just run and hug his mother weeping and begging forgiveness. 

 

Hell no.

 

“As a mom, it’s my job to say embarrassing things to you, sweetie.”  Cynthia sounds far too matter of fact and he hates everything right now about the attention.  He flaps his hands at her extended one reaching to pinch at his cheek or rub it or something and she tsks and dodges his waving hands to brush his hair behind an ear.  “Besides, don’t you want your mother to like her son-in-law?”

 

“ _ Mom _ !”  

 

Evan doesn’t say anything, just squeaks adorably, but the sentiment is there and it echoes Connor’s and that’s a comfort.

 

Her giggle turns to a genuine bark of laughter and Heidi is giggling, too, and Larry even has a small smile and he feels like he’s in the twilight zone.  “On the count of three, we make a break for it.” He hisses at Evan in a stage whisper, and Evan snorts.

 

“Mrs Murphy, when...when did you...when did you…”

 

Connor winces at Evan’s broken record stumble and gives him a proud grin when he looks over at him helplessly.  “I gotcha.” He pulls him into his side and finishes for him. “When’d you realize we were together?” He asks it while looking at Evan to garner his reaction and relaxes when Evan nods with a relieved sigh.

 

“Only after Heidi brought us a picture.”  Cynthia promises and Connor can’t explain why but he believes her.  He can’t explain why, it’s always come back to bite him in the ass later, but he just...relaxes.  A tiny bit. Maybe because so far, everything else has defied his expectations, so maybe he can just trust this once and if it backfires, then he never has to trust his parents again.  Healthy, right?

 

Jamie would argue no.  He sometimes hates that Jamie is a voice in the back of his head.  “Which one?”

 

She doesn’t answer with a verbal reply, she pulls a copy of it from her purse.  It’s folded in half and taped down the middle and Connor feels his heart splinter because that is the proof he needs that this whole conversation is real, is genuine, is going to actually make a difference, because it’s very obvious that she has looked at this picture countless of times.  It’s the first one they had sent Heidi, the one of them sitting on the log over the creek in Yellowstone, and he feels a warm flood of happy at the memories of the hours spent smoking and talking on that very log during the month in the National Park even through the almost overwhelming emotional pain he’s feeling.

 

“Are you staying?”

 

Cynthia is a lot more blunt than Heidi, asking him outright like that, and he nearly says no but something stops him.  Probably his  _ feelings _ .  

 

Goddammit.

 

“We can’t keep running, Connie.”  Evan sounds the most serious he ever has and only ticks on another bullet point against what he desperately wishes they were going to do instead of what he’s about to agree to do.  He desperately doesn’t want to, and he regrets saying it even as it’s leaving his mouth, but he finds himself agreeing with Evan. 

 

“No, you’re right.”  He turns looks over at his parents, at Cynthia’s hopeful eyes and Larry’s refusal to even meet his.  He’s known since Boulder that whenever they find their home base, their place to plant their own roots, that he and Evan are going to find a psychiatrist.  Jamie helped, of course he did, but he’s not finished with school and also they need someone who is going to be a reasonable distance from them. Boulder wont’ be at all because while he loves the city, he really wants to make their way back out to California.

 

Specifically Levi.

 

That’s the biggest hurdle he has to cross to give her an answer.  

 

“We stay on one condition.” 

 

She looks hesitant to agree, and rightfully so, but she nods.   “If we can.”

 

He can accept that for now and he points to Larry.  “He goes to therapy and so do I.”

 

“Connor, those are two conditions.”  Larry says flatly in a voice he’s always thought of as cold and unfeeling, but for the first time Connor can hear a slight waver of vulnerability, a warble that says he isn’t as much of a heartless rock as Connor has always thought of him as, and that’s the only thing that keeps him from just yelling and screaming at his dad.

 

“The condition is therapy.  That is one topic, one condition, that applies to us both.”  Connor bites back and Larry clamps his mouth shut, nodding slowly and taking a subtle step back from him and he pretends that the action doesn’t still sting him.  “I am not staying only to have it all go to shit again.” He swallows and Evan squeezes his arm encouragingly. At least, the contact bolsters his courage, and he tries to keep his breathing even and regulated like Jamie had taught him.

 

“If we pay for therapy, you need to finish high school.”  Cynthia counters and Connor scowls deeply. He’s an adult, he doesn't need conditions and regulations imposed on him and especially not on his mental health.  

 

“You can’t make me move back in.  You can’t tell me what to do and you can’t hold my mental health hostage!”

 

“I’m not trying to make you do anything, and I’m not trying to tell you what to do and for god's sake, Connor, I am not  _ holding anything hostage. _ ”  He looks away from her briefly as she does an actual face palm using mainly the tips of her fingers and breathing in deeply for a few moments.  When she lifts her head, she’s visibly calmer and he thinks that maybe her yoga shit isn’t all that bullshit he’s been thinking. “You could stay with Evan, you two could find an apartment, I don’t care.”  She shoots back and he freezes, taken aback. “I won’t help you pay for an apartment, not until the credit card is paid back, but I also won’t stop you from wherever you and Evan want to sleep. I just...you need to be at one of our tables for dinner, and one of your rooms for curfew.”

 

“And I’ll help pay it, too.”  He turns surprised eyes to Evan who smiles softly at him.  “We’re in this together, remember?” He can’t forget it, of course he remembers.  He fucking loves him and literally can’t imagine life without him, how the fuck could he forget anything he’s learned about Evan?

 

Heidi is nodding and Evan has a grin by the time Cynthia is done outlining her conditions and Evan makes his point, and he doesn’t want to move back in, but if he can spend as much time as he wants elsewhere, maybe he can handle it.  “Trial run?”

 

She shrugs, though her shoulders are stiff and he knows she desperately doesn't want to say want she’s about to say.  To say he’s surprised would be a gross understatement when she says, “You are an adult, Connor. You are free to leave whenever.  I just...I just wish time to make up for my mistakes.”

 

He somehow latches onto a single word and it rattles about in his brain.  Time. She says it like she is completely and fully aware of the implications, that it isn’t going to be an overnight easy fix, that it’s going to take effort and time, and somehow it helps.  The idea of yes, he’s going to be beheld accountable for his actions, but also being able to hold his parents and sister to theirs? The idea that they will all work hard and it isn’t all going to be put on him, it’s all so very attractive.

 

He glances over at his boyfriend who squeezes his hand.  “I’d be okay just choosing which room we stay that night.”  Evan says softly and Connor can see the appeal. They can stay here most nights, maybe one at his parents to appease Cynthia, finish school....

 

Ugh, it sounds...responsible.  What is he becoming?

 

“Connie, stop.”  Evan sounds warning and he sticks his tongue out at him.

 

“I’m not doing anything,”

 

“I can see you spiraling.”  He says almost flatly, and Connor knows it’s because he’s arguing with Evan.  “Your pupils do this weird rapid dilation for a bit, kind of like they’re trying to focus but a lot faster, and it scared the shit out of me the first time.”

 

Connor makes to protest that he has any sort of a warning sign for his disassociation spirals, but apparently Evan’s noticed them so maybe he can’t protest them, and then Jared opens his big fat mouth.

 

“Okay, no.”  Jared calls out from his spot on the sofa next to Heidi and rolls his eyes.  “You are not allowed to curse! Nope. Not okay.”

 

His shoulders hunch automatically like he’s expecting Evan to cry or scream at Jared but Evan only laughs and he slowly relaxes.  The laugh isn’t happy, it’s more resigned like he knows that he’s already gotten all he’s ever going to get from Jared on the matter and he’s Evan, he’s just going to accept it and Connor doesn’t like it but they had also agreed that they are individuals as well and ugh.  He hates it sometimes. Like right now because he has to continue to deal with Jared Kleinman.

 

“Hey fucker, I have shit to say to you.”  Zoe shouts and he just flips her off. He needs to finish talking to his mom first.

 

“I won’t stay there often.”

 

“I don’t expect you to.”  Her answer is immediate and without a single tiny hint of untruth and his shoulders relax minutely when she says wryly, “I fully expect two adult men who are dating to take advantage of the fact one of their houses has a very busy single parent.”

 

Heidi’s giggle is gleeful and bubbly and she shakes her head.  “I’ve finished my last class. I passed everything, Evan! I’ll be around more evenings, or maybe more afternoons or mornings.  I want...I want to spend time with you.”

 

There’s a very wet sniffle as his only warning before Connor finds himself with an arm full of Evan breaking down completely.  He had seen him fighting the breakdown off and had been sure he would make it until they were in his room, but luck was not on either of their sides in that aspect tonight.

 

“Why don’t we deal with the website now?  Call Beck.” He stares down Zoe until she slowly pulls her cell phone out and starts tapping through screens.  “And while we wait for her, we can... chat.” He looks straight at Zoe when he says this and he feels a Cheshire like grin spread when she visibly swallows and her eyes flick away from his, clearly nervous about whatever this chat might entail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sappy? Probably. Do I care? Not really. I had a kinda shitty day and fluffy is soul healing.


	36. Confronting the Past Pt. 3 Connor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summaries are difficult. So are the conversations in this chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the summaries for the last three chapters have been the same because they were all intended as the same chapter and I hate writing individual chapter summaries anyway lol. There is so much dialogue, I hope it isn't too much!

 

### Connor

Zoe, in fact, does not call Alana but text her.  “There. Done. Can we talk now?” She asks as soon as she blackens the screen and shoves her phone into her back pocket.

He ignores her for the moment and tries to also ignore everyone staring at him when he turns his attention back to the no longer hysterical but still sobbing boy in his arms.  It’s automatic, the way his voice drops into a soothing, deep mindless sort of crooning murmuring he’s found is Evan’s fastest calm down trigger. He’s asked about it, and Evan can’t fully place any sort of names or emotions to the feeling except it's almost like warm molasses except lighter and softer and that makes no fucking sense to him.

“You need to leave?”  He asks quietly. “Go upstairs, the car, somewhere else?”  Dante is circling around them whining softly, ears down and eyes big as he stares at the crying human.

The head buried in his chest shakes from side to side.  “No.” Comes the muffled reply. It’s still wet sounding, and a little raw, but stronger and calmer and he’s very impressed at just how quickly Evan is calming.  He only hopes it’s not just a delay because he’d rather sleep tonight than cry.

“You sure?”  He knows he’s probably being incredibly pushy and obnoxious, but he won’t let Evan push himself past what he can handle.  He cares far too much about him.

Dante's tail starts to wag hesitatingly when Evan finally lifts his head and wipes at his eyes as he gives them a little roll.  Connor can’t help the little flash of hurt he feels at the casual dismissal of his concern but Evan’s words help soothe it away just as quickly as it appears.  “I'm just overwhelmed, Connie. I love how much you care about me.”

Okay, so maybe now he’s flushing and blushing, and spluttering.  His blush only deepens when Evan smiles ever so sweetly at him, and he swoops in to kiss him quickly instead.  It’s not like his sappy sweetness towards Evan can hurt his image in his family’s eyes. Hell, it will probably only help convince them he’s all better and things will go back to normal sooner and he'll be proven right that things _haven’t_ changed and they can leave again.

“I’m okay now.  You can let me go.”  Evan says softly as he rubs at Connor’s cheek with a thumb and he shakes his head, both at Evans words and at Dante's tongue licking his shoe.

Weird ass dog.

His own fingers are stroking nonsensical patterns along Evan’s sides. “But what if I want you to stay here?”  He pulls Evan just a hair closer to him and tries so hard to ignore the fact that Zoe is glaring daggers into the side of his head, whether from him avoiding the conversation with her or suspicion that he’s not being genuine he’s not sure.

“What if I want to to go and sit with my mom?”  Evan asks innocently as Dante shuffles back and sits, staring up at them both expectantly.

His eyes narrow and he thinks he’s pretty sure what Evan is doing here.  “You are not leaving me to my sister alone.” He hisses almost under his breath.  He hears a snort from Zoe’s direction and scrunches his nose at the sound. Apparently, he wasn’t quiet enough.

A blond eyebrow quirks in amusement and he knows he’s been caught.  “You’re not afraid of her, are you?”

“ _No_.”  Evan looks completely unimpressed, as well as he should.  He knows Connor well enough by now to know what he’s doing and he scrunches up his shoulders in an effort to hide his red face.  “Fine. Yes.” He wants to cheer when Evan slips his hand into Connor’s and stays by his side.

“Oh, this is just…”  It’s only Jared’s loudly obnoxious ringtone screaming that it’s his mother calling him that saves the idiot from certain death because Connor won’t murder him when the kid’s mother can hear him die.  “Hey Mom, I’m at...oh is that tonight? Really? I thought that was...oh right, tomorrow is...okay fine, I’ll be there soon. I’ll tell her. Yeah, bye.” Connor watches as Jared shoves his phone back into his pocket.  “So, um, I gotta run.”

“Fuck you, no.”  Zoe whirls and growls out and Jared holds his hands up in surrender.  “You’re not leaving me here alone!”

“Babe, you know my mom has had this stupid Christmas slash Hanukkah party planned for weeks.  And yes, I figure you're not coming so don't say it.” Jared sounds extremely annoyed he has to leave and it only makes Connor even more gleeful at his departure.  “Mom said you’re invited Heidi.” Jared’s eyes flick to Evan and harden just a tad. “Though, I suppose I’ll just tell her you’re busy since the lost boy came home.”

“Please tell her I’ll call her tonight sometime after ten.”  Heidi seems to ignore Jared’s passive aggressive tone and simply hugs him before he leaves the room.  The front door slams shut before she smiles at Evan and Connor brightly. “Well I would love to hear more about this other Heidi you two met.  You touched on her and her nephew in one of your picture emails, but you didn’t...”

“No, I get my turn first!”  Zoe interrupts with a snap and Connor sighs, heavy and irritated, and shoots an apologetic look at his boyfriend's mother.

“Fine, Zoe.”  He throws his arms out the side and he knows the smile he has on is rather deranged but he can’t manage to contort his face any other way.  “Lay it on me.”

The room falls silent and he feels sweat creeping down his back.  He doesn’t know what she’s going to do, but it’s very apparent she definitely has things to say to him.  Which...she does. He knows she does. She takes a breath to talk, and then closes her mouth again, face twitching like it does whenever she’s thinking deeply over an issue.

Of course the issue is him.  It always has been.

“I forgive you.”

He can’t move.

Or breath.

“What?”  He blinks gormlessly at her.  

She snorts out a giggle despite it all.  “You look like an idiot, Connor. Close your mouth.”

“But...what?”

A wry smile wrinkles her eyes a bit. “You were gone for four months, Con. I had some time to think.”   _She had time to think_?  That statement implies that she sat down and pondered their relationship, her part in their relationship.  “You’re not a monster, Connor. You have untreated mental illness.”

The floor drops from beneath him and he’s falling without moving.  No, no. No no. No no no nonononono. He’s almost shouting it and stepping back from her, Dante whining again as his distress grows.  “No! This isn’t...I _am,_ I’m a monster I _pulled knife on you_ I…”

She sounds so patient, more patient than he feels he deserves.  “And when you turned and saw me you threw it away. I was in that ridiculous phase where I hated any sort of knife remember?  You could’ve been holding my American Girl doll’s plastic knife and I still would have screamed and ran.” It's that gentle tone that breaks into his panicked yelling and he can’t help the huff that barely is a laugh at the idea of him screaming and brandishing a tiny harmless knife designed to be held by a small doll.  She smiles softly at the broken sound and sighs. “You only ever tried to attack me when I thought I could be the one who could calm you down, even when Mom told me you wouldn’t really know it was me and you could hurt me without even realizing it.”

“I still threatened you, attacked you.  I _threw shit at you_!”  He can't handle the lack of arguing, the lack of blaming, the lack of yelling at him, none of this is going the way he had built it up in his head and it is doing his head in.  A panicked sort of whine escapes him as he turns to look at Evan. “What sort of weird ass alternate reality did we fall into?”

“I can start yelling if you'd like.”  Quips his dad lightly before Evan can respond and Connor’s head is spinning from just how thrown off balance he is emotionally.  When they’re done with Alana, he’s taking Evan and barricading them in the room upstairs so they can sleep for ten years.

“Larry, really?”  Cynthia has the long suffering voice of a partner very used to their significant others quirks.  “Baiting your son?”

Larry shrugs and looks away.  “It isn’t baiting if he asked, Cynthia.”  The atmosphere almost feels light now, and it’s a vast difference from before and he _doesn’t understand it_.  “But your sister is right.  We’ve had four months to be angry at you, Connor, and it hasn’t been very productive.”

Right, the vitriol filled voicemails he could never stomach to listen to but read every single word of each voicemail script.  Well, most of them.  She probably does have a point. He’s not sure a single one of the voicemails had been positive, but he had stopped at about...fine, he had stopped halfway so he doesn’t know for certain.

“On the contrary, we got out a lot of our anger at you and now we’d rather do something more useful than worry needlessly about your dumb ass because we actually missed you.  I know, I'm shocked too.”  Zoe snarks and Connor swats at her ponytail instead of her head like he’s sorely tempted to do. He doesn’t want to already set himself back in progress with his sister.  

“Well, I’d hate for you to use your only two brain cells on us.”  He retorts and she isn’t as considerate as he is and he’s left rubbing his right upper arm and praying it doesn’t bruise too badly.  “Have you been taking MMA classes or something, holy shit Zo.”

She flexes her fingers and hisses.  “Think I held my wrist wrong there. Zia isn’t going to be happy with me.”

He rolls his eyes.  “Zoe.” He wants an answer to his question and also wants to know where she gets off forgiving him so easily like that.  It doesn't seem right.

She looks up and god she’s beaming so widely he’s surprised she hasn’t gone supernova.  “Oh, yes actually. I started it as a stress reliever the week after you left. Zia is my coach.”  Oh, good. That’s what Zoe needs on top of her guitar and dance skills, the ability to kick his ass.

“Zoe.”  She’s avoiding the actual issue he's having.  How can she just forgive him like that? Four months isn’t that long!

“Hey, Dad, where were we going to go eat tonight?”  Goddamn it she’s still ignoring him.

“I had an idea, but I think since Connor is home, and should he choose to join us, he should decide.”

He stares at his dad suspiciously.  He’s being open, honest, _asking his opinion,_ something he hasn’t ever seen from his dad in years.  “Okay, are you dying or something?”

“Connor.  Honey, that isn’t necessary.”

He ignores his mother and focuses on Larry who is looking more and more uncomfortable as the conversation progresses.  “Why aren’t you fighting against therapy? Why aren’t you _screaming_ at me?   _Why are you being nice to me_?”

Larry sighs heavily, broad shoulders drooping a bit as he does so, and looks down at the ground.  For a bit, Connor thinks he isn’t going to answer any of his questions, but then his head lifts and Connor blinks at the soft look in his father’s eyes.  “Because I already see a therapist, Connor. All three of us do.”

“Since shortly after you left.  Heidi was instrumental in our doing so.”  Cynthia tacks on at the end and then falls silent again, obviously expecting some sort of response from Connor.

He openly gapes at his father.  He can’t help it. Then he shouts, “what that _actual_ fuck was all that then?  The whole, ‘that’s two conditions Connor’ bullshit?”

“Leverage.  You know, sometimes I think you all forget I went to Harvard.”

“Because god forbid you admit to having a sense of humor.”  Zoe rolls her eyes and says exactly what Connor was thinking, spookily enough.  “We get it, Dad. You very smart. We very dumb. We can move on now.”

Her eyes flick to Evan, and Connor is relieved to see them alight with curiosity though ugh, now she’s going to badger him about Evan.  It's a small price to pay, he supposes, for a healthier relationship with his sister. If it’s even possible. One pleasant conversation does not wipe away years of trauma, even if it’s mental health induced trauma.  Maybe even especially then.

“Zoe, that isn’t what I said and you know it.”

“Blah blah, I thought we were moving on!”

It is nice to know some things never change, at least, he muses as his sister and his father fall into bickering between them.  Evan snickers next to him. “I’m glad I don’t have siblings.” Connor is very glad to see no sign of his previous distress.

“At least not ones you ever see.”

“Good point.”  Evan picks his hand back up and strokes over the fingers gently, soothingly.  “We should call Heidi and tell her we’re staying in New York.” He makes a little grabbing motion with his free hand and Connor wordlessly pulls their shared phone from his pocket.

She’ll be thrilled, he knows she will.  Levi will probably be a little less understanding, but he is also eleven and will understand eventually, especially if they explain it directly to him.  “You should tell Levi, too. He’ll like it better if he hears it from us personally.” He huffs a laugh as he hands the joint device over. Levi would go on a ten minute rant about how _friends tell each other these things, Evan._  Not Connor, Evan.  He loves that at least for one person, he isn’t the automatic blame target.  Though, with how today has been going, maybe he won't be the scapegoat any more.

“He will demand an itinerary for our next visit if I do that.”  Evan grins through his wry tone and Connor watches as he scrolls through their admittedly tiny contact list for Heidi and Levi’s entry and press the call button.  “Down to the minute.”

There’s a noise, a sound that is rather high pitched and full of surprise, that comes from Heidi’s side of the room.  Connor turns to look and see what might be wrong and has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from shouting. Not angry, no never.  Not at how proud she looks watching her son, his boyfriend, talking quietly when the woman answers. More like he has to refrain shouting his own pride along with her.

“Yes, we’re staying in New York.  I know, you told us so, you can stop saying that now.”

“How…?”  Heidi whispers, a hand pressed over her mouth.  “He, he can’t…He’s never...”

“He’s talking to Heidi.  Or maybe Levi now.” Connor explains softly, eyes moving to Dante when his ears perk up.  Yeah, probably Levi now. “It’s different somehow with them.”

“You don’t need to yell at me you know.”  With how Dante is circling Evan and whining, it’s clear it’s Levi on the other end.  Whenever Levi is around, no one else exists for Dante.

“Yup, that's Levi.”  Connor mutters, jealousy whirling a little in his gut that Evan is the one to talk to the kid and not him.  “Ev.”

"Dante says hello."  Evan looks at him, and Connor can hear Levi’s voice yammering away a mile a minute through the phone.  He points to himself before making a phone motion and Evan nods. “I have news Levi....oh, you know what you little...ha, that was nearly perfect!”  He starts laughing and Connor grins. He knows Levi most likely guessed exactly what Evan was going to say and delivered it with excellent sarcasm in a near perfect mimicry of Evan’s voice and he’s very proud of the kid. He taught him well.  “Yeah, go ahead. I’ll do the same.”

He puts the phone down and touches the screen and suddenly the entire room can hear the now twelve year old talking.  “When you said you were going back to New York, you said you’d come back. I knew you weren’t going to come back.” He sounds so much more than sad, and resigned, and Connor hates that his favorite child in the world thinks he’s never going to see them again.

“We’re going to come back, Levi.  Just not right away.” Connor interjects and he hears a heavy sigh on the other side.  "We'll come out for spring break, how does that sound?"

“But I want you here right now.  I miss you.”

“We miss you, too Levi.”  He hears Evan swallow hard and he feels the same thickness in his throat.  The kid has suffered so much loss, it's no surprise he's so afraid of never seeing them again.  He desperately wants to be out there with him, with both of them, but he also wants to try and repair his family relationships and he can't do that from California.  “You can call us, we will call you, we can video chat every couple of weeks or so, you can send me as many pictures you want.” Evan is saying and he nods along in full agreement.

“It’s not the same.”  It isn’t, he agrees with the very morose tone, but at the same time he knows that they need to do this.

“I know kid.”  Connor is the one who answers when Evan makes to speak but can't.

“You know I’m twelve now.” Levi says with all the anguish of a young child who wishes he were older.

It makes Connor want to laugh. “And you’re still a kid, kid.”

“I'm a preteen.  That's different.”  They all can hear Heidi asking for the phone again and this time Levi’s sigh is full of irritation.  “But Mom, I wanna still talk.” Connor bites his lip to keep from whooping out loud when he hears him say the word.  He knew he had started to, Heidi had texted them that he had finally called her mom, but to hear it himself is something rather satisfying.  Levi is healing and growing, and somehow, he has been a small part of that.

“They need to go back to what they’re doing, love.”  Her voice comes closer and when she speaks again it’s obvious she’s taken control of the phone.  “May we call tomorrow?”

“Yeah!  Of course!”  Evan looks offended she’d even ask that and Connor’s glad she can’t see them.   “By the way, I put you speaker if you wanted to say hi to our families before we go.”

“Oh!”  There’s an exclamation of surprise before she chuckles a little.  “Well, okay. Hello, and goodbye. I hope to talk to you for real sometime soon.”

“Hi bye!”  Levi shouts and the room collectively giggles at that.

There’s a chorus of returning hellos and goodbyes being dealt out before Evan hangs up the phone.  “Um, how...when will Alana be here?”

Zoe glances at her phone, presumably to check the time, and shrugs.  “She actually doesn’t live too far from here, especially if she drives, so soon?”

Evan nods and wraps his arms around Connor’s torso, and he feels his entire body releases like a sigh into his hug.  Alana will be here soon and when she does, it will finally be time…

The doorbell interrupts his musings and his shoulders immediately hunch over.  Evan goes stiff against him and is suddenly thrumming with nervous energy. Heidi darts out of the room to answer the door and he instantly recognizes Alana Beck’s voice and his heart rate jumps.  Evan steps out of the hug, and snatches up his hand and grips it tightly instead.

God, she’s going to murder him just for speaking to her.

When Heidi returns into the room, she accompanied by a solemn faced Alana Beck, who nods at Zoe cordially before turning to Connor and Evan.  “It’s very good to see you. I assume this is about the website. Before you ask, I had permission to use your photos because I would never dare without.”

Connor blinks.  He’s forgotten just how perceptive and _chatty_ Alana can get.  “From who?”

She holds herself almost stiffer than Evan does in his most anxious moments and he wonders just what sort of anxiety issues Alana has.  Not social, she’s far too involved with people to have that particular issue. “Evan’s dad. He called me in November, I believe.”

A trio of groans rumbles through the room, his and Evans as well as one slightly higher pitched belonging to Heidi.  “Of fucking course.” Evan mutters and rolls his eyes. “Well, can...um. Can we...can we...not?”

“Not?”  

“Take our fucking pictures down.”  Connor snaps but deflates a bit when Evan glares at him.  “I mean, please take our pictures down. We never talked to Mark about adding us to your site.”  He hadn't meant to snap. He never means to do most of the reactionary things he does.

Her answer is nearly immediate.  “Of course. He had said he talked to you, I suppose I shouldn't have believed him.”

That all seems resolved entirely too easy, just like everything else today, but he’s too tired now to fight it.  Evan, apparently, isn’t. “That...that’s it?” He sounds so surprised Connor wants to laugh. “You'll take our names and stuff off, too?”

Alana does laugh, just little light giggle.  “Yes. It would be grossly inappropriate to use your name and photo when you expressly asked for it to be removed.”  She sighs a little and shuffles in place, glancing down and suddenly looking so small. “I just wanted to make a place people could find someone to help them feel just a little less alone.”

It’s such a lovely idea, a wonderful concept, especially now that he and Evan aren’t going to be tied to it.  “So, the website wasn’t...it isn’t revenge?” In fact, he thinks it is such a good idea now that he has no connection, he’ll probably suggest Jamie show it to his professors in his mental health classes.

She looks genuinely confused with a little head tilt that sends her tightly woven braids sliding off her shoulder.  She tugs on one braid absently when she speaks. “I’m sorry? Revenge for what?”

Okay he really needs to start remembering that _not_ everyone is out to get him, that not every action from someone else is designed specifically to hurt him in some way.  He says it anyway. “Freshman year?”

She laughs.  Alana Beck actually laughs in his face at that.  “Oh, Connor. I don’t blame _you_ for the hell that was freshman year.  You just happen to have the locker right next to Carson.”  She drops to a crouch when Dante licks her hand and she rubs at his ears.  She’s the first to directly address the dog as well. “Oh, you’re a very pretty boy, aren't you?”

The floor seems to be very unstable today.  Maybe Heidi should get the foundation looked at.  “What?” He barely registers that Dante is practically whoring himself out now for pets as Alana rubs at his belly, wiggling and squirming on his back on the floor.

“That was all my brother and you just happened to get caught in the crossfire simply because of locker location.”  She sounds so sure of herself he finds he’s doubting himself and what he’s felt has been the truth for four years: that he had accidentally ruined Alana Becks life.  Apparently...not? “Carson lost a lot of privileges at home because of the whole debacle, but it didn’t help me much. It was very much too little, too late by that point.  I wasn’t at school a lot sophomore year because of it and had to repeat.”

He had also been kept home a lot the next year, but for different reasons - namely his suicide attempt that had occured over the summer.  “...me too.” They stare at each other, Evan starting to grin like an idiot between them. “I was wondering why we were still in the same classes my second run through Sophomore year.”  He says slowly and Alana starts.

The hand petting the dog stills.  “Oh my god that never even dawned on me.”  Dante whines and she resumes absently, still staring at Connor in wide eyed shock.

Connor grins down at her and plops himself down on the floor and Dante immediately makes himself at home in his lap, Alana’s hand still resting on his head.  “You aren’t a lap dog, idiot.” The dog just pants gross dog breath in his face so he sighs and tries to ignore the heavy weight in his lap. “So, the website?  If it isn’t revenge, it’s what, a haven?”

She beams at him, fingers resuming their rubbing of Dante’s ear and he definitely thinks she has anxiety.  She just manages it differently than Evan does, and is hit with a wave of _must make friends_. He blames Evan.  “That is actually a very lovely description!  I created it because I didn’t want anyone to vanish from school like I did sophomore year.  Well, and you too I find out now. And when I realized neither of you had shown up the second day to school and no one I talked to seemed to notice or care, I couldn’t...I couldn’t stand it.”

Yeah, he definitely wants to be friends with Alana.  Though now that he thinks about it, Zoe had her number so maybe she’s already friends with Zoe and doesn’t want anything to do with him.  “Are you...friends with Zoe?” He blurts out bluntly.

Alana looks surprised at the sudden change of topic.  “I’d say we’re more acquaintances. As part of the student council, I assist with all school events including jazz band and so I’ve worked with her before.”

He can _hear_ Zoe’s eye roll through her voice inflection.  “And that is why no one wants to actually try and be friends with you, Beck.”

“And _that_ is why we are not more than acquaintances, Murphy.”  Alana snaps back before taking in a quick, deep breath and holding it for a couple of beats and releasing it slowly.  

Connor shoots his sister a dark look and keeps her in the corner of his vision when he growls out, “Alana, add your number to my phone.  We're friends now.” Evan is nodding almost frantically as Connor shoves his personal phone at her and watches her enter in her information slowly, hesitatingly, as if he’s going to snatch the phone from her and yell _sike_ and it kind of hurts his heart that she’s been treated so miserably, too.  She’s a very sweet person, maybe a little overbearing, but she seems to genuinely care about people and he needs more of that in his life.  “Wanna join us for dinner? We’re going to Italian.” 

“Which restaurant?”  She asks immediately.  “I would love to join you, provided it isn’t Olive Garden.”

“Nah, I wanted that fancy little Italian place down the road.”  He looks at his dad when he says this, wanting to see his reaction to his suggestion.  “If I still get to choose.” He half expects Larry to have changed his mind about that.

He’s disappointed. Or pleasantly surprised, he's not really sure which.  Larry just nods and motions to the door. “Excellent suggestion. Are we all ready to eat now?”  He looks around at everyone who all nod back at him. “Okay then.”

“Goddammit.”  He mutters sullenly when his dad gives him a little grin and he shoves his hands into his pockets and hunches into himself.  “That’s where you wanted to go, isn’t it.”  He really is a lot like his dad.  He's not sure why he's never noticed before.

“Yup.”  Larry actually pop’s his p and Connor officially gives up on understanding today.  Maybe tomorrow after he's had a full night sleep.

They’re all putting on their winter coats, Cynthia ruffling Dante’s patience for clothing by trying to put a scarf around the wiggly dog’s neck on top of the sweater Evan bought him in Seattle when something dawns on him.  Larry hasn’t touched Dante once. Everyone else had taken a turn to at least pat him on the head except for Larry and it reminds him of the conversation he and Evan had had shortly after finding Dante about him never having a dog growing up and wanting one.  “Oh, hey Dad?

“Yes, Connor.”

“Why were we never allowed a dog as kids?”

Heidi locks the front door and Larry looks at Connor with an arched brow and a frown as they make their way down the driveway.  “Connor, you _know_ I'm very allergic to dogs.”

“Wait, you're allergic to dogs?”  Zoe sounds absolutely flabbergasted from her spot between Heidi and Cynthia and that makes Connor feel better for not knowing himself.  “That makes far more sense than you just hate dogs like a soulless monster.”

“I thought I was the soulless monster?”  Connor deadpans and Zoe snorts.

“And I thought we had established otherwise.  And now Dad is out of the running because he’s just allergic and doesn’t hate dogs.”  She eyes their mother suspiciously. “He, Mom.  Do you qualify?  What problems do you have?”

“Many.”  Cynthia sighs with a half smile and Connor snickers along with his sister.  “And your father may be many things, but at least he’s not a dog hater.”

“What is this, attack Larry Murphy night?”  Larry sounds annoyed yet amused and it’s an odd tone for his father to adopt.  “I would buy a dog in a heartbeat if I didn't feel like I was going to die every time I was in the vicinity of one.” As if on cue, he sneezes three times in succession, each one stronger and louder than the previous, and Dante barks and wags his tail as if proud of himself before hopping into the back of the jeep.  Evan and Connor are going to drive separate since they all can’t fit into the Murphy car, and Alana has elected to drive herself for the same reason.

Connor grins widely at his dog and folds his arms up behind his head and stretches.  “I like it better than attack Connor Murphy night.”

Larry’s door is open but he’s not stepping into the car.  “I suppose that would be a nice change of pace for you.”

Once again, he finds himself in state of frozen shock just staring at his dad, arms still locked behind his head.  Jokes, he’s making _jokes_ now.  “So, that's really the reason why we never got a dog? You just have allergies?  It wasn't a...it wasn't a no just to spite me?” He drops his arms and tries not to gape yet again.  It almost works.

There’s that eye roll he expects, that’s better.  “Connor, I wouldn't do that to you.”

Evan snorts from the other side of the jeep.  “I told you so Connie.”

“Kindly shut up Evan.”  He says cheerfully and Evan snickers before he ducks into the passenger seat.

Zoe and Connor are the only ones left standing outside a car now.  Before she slips into the back seat of the silver Mercedes, she snaps her fingers and points in the direction of Connor’s face.  “Oh hey fuckface, that reminds me. Whenever you get to the house, don't let Mr. Floof out.”

Yes, that's what he needs, one more random surprise he doesn't understand.  That seems to be the theme for the day.  “Who the fuck is Mr. Floof?”

“Our cat.”

“You got a cat.”  He says flatly and she grins.

“Yeah, the therapist suggested it would be good for all of us to have an animal around.  A cat was the compromise.”  She leans closer to him, which isn't much since there is a car between them, and says conspiratorially, “Dad named him.”

 **  
** _“Oh sweet Jesus."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Freshman year needs it's own full chapter, and I can't fit it in fully without shoehorning and expanding awkwardly to cram it into the end. If I were to add it into the main story, or if I had had the idea a lot earlier, it would need to be far far back, like probably in the Boulder chapters or even during one of the drives between main locations. It will be a one shot, no worries loves. Plus, I feel like Alana doesn't want to really remember it, and neither does Connor really, so neither are inclined to actually discuss details, and in Connor's case really even think about the details.
> 
> And, while things are a little less dramatic than I had originally planned, this is what I had planned as their return home. I base a lot of my writings and conversations in these last three chapters on actual conversations either I or my brother or a friend has had with their own parent in a similar situation, so I hope it's all alright.
> 
> I can't believe the epilogue is finally here. Holy shit.


	37. Their Happily Ever After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 9 Months Later  
> Late September  
> Somewhere along the Peak to Peak National Scenic Highway, Colorado
> 
>  
> 
> “We’ll get our happily ever after, right?”
> 
> “That’s our choice. We get to decide that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *slow deep breath* I can’t believe this is it. This is the end. Hope you enjoy the epilogue!

### Evan

 

Pale yellows and oranges mix and combine to blanket the landscape, the fall aspen colors interspersed with the dark green of the evergreen commonly found in the Rocky Mountains.  The treeless peaks are already snowy and weather forecasters are promising a snow filled winter in the mountains, much to Jamie and Ryan’s combined delight and obsession with snowboarding.  He and Connor have been staying with the college boys during the month of September, Connor so adamant about making that drive up Mount Evans that they had missed just about a year prior that they arrive in Boulder on August 31st and how it snowed two days after had both boys thankful Connor had rushed them.

 

They are on their slow way out to California to spend the entire month of November with Heidi and Levi.  When they had made the visit during Spring break as promised, the pair had still been at the RV park but had been in preparation for the biggest move of either lives because she had bought a house.  It’s a tiny little thing, but it has two bedrooms and it sits on such a large plot of land that the size of the house doesn’t matter. At least, not to Levi because he can spend all his time exploring the tree filled landscape of their new property up in up near Eureka, California and while the house is tiny, the property is beautiful and wild and _huge_ and everything a nature obsessed preteen needs.  Their phone is filled with images of Levi’s many adventures along the beaches and in the forests and he can’t wait to see all the places and things Levi’s been sharing.  Evan, of course, has responded to each image sent with one of his own and Levi in turn has given the appropriate excitement for each Colorado shot.

 

The purpose of their current trip is, on top of seeing the things they had missed the first time through due to seasons, to support their favorite twelve year old.  Levi is giving a presentation at a Junior Scientist Convention about plastic waste in the ocean and ways to decrease it and if he’s honest, Evan would have flown out had they not been able to make the drive because he wants to support Levi in his passions, he wants to show Levi that what he’s doing is awesome and he should continue it, and that only happens if he’s encouraged to do so so Evan will fight through hell and high water to support him.  Of course, Levi has no idea they’re going to be there for the entire month, Heidi has managed to convince him it’s only for the weekend of the talk without actually telling him that outright and lying directly to his face. 

 

He and Connor still haven’t made it up to Alaska, not that they’ve had any time.  The summer had been filled with surprise job offers and self realizations and they had been far too busy to even contemplate leaving on an Alaskan expedition.  They had finished the school year online, having been told by the principle they had missed too much to enroll in senior classes, but if they could bring passing  transcripts from an online source, he would let them walk with their classmates. If he hadn’t agreed to that, Evan is still a little afraid of what Alana might have done to Principal McFadden.

 

It had been an adjustment, living in a house and under a parent’s rule again, even if it had only been for the first five months of the year and the rules extremely lax to the point of not existing.  Between Connor’s parents far more willing and wanting to spend time with him and his own mother being done with school, not to mention the guilt _all_ of them have admitted to feeling in regards to the events of the last few years, they’ve had less time for just the two of them and it’s been bothering Evan quite a bit actually.  Needless to say, both boys had been very thankful when they moved into their own apartment the day after graduation. Evan's mom had been more vocal in her hesitation until Evan had reminded her that he and Connor had lived out of a Jeep together for four months and that ceased the protests.

 

Honestly, the “apartment” is actually a fully paid for three bedroom top floor condo only rich people can afford but Evan refuses to think of it like that because if he does then he panics about taking advantage of his boyfriend and being a gold digging hussy.  (That one had made Connor nearly pee himself laughing.) The condo came to them courtesy of Larry Murphy, and he had emphasized many times when presenting the gift during their graduation party that it wasn’t about kicking Connor out but instead insisting that Connor and Evan are adults and have already proven they're responsible enough to live on their own.  Evan wonders just how much of it is to keep Connor happy and close by and Larry feels this is the best way to ensure that but he's not complaining because they don't have to pay almost anything, just utilities, and it would be very dumb to turn that offer down. Connor surprisingly hadn’t, and still doesn’t, refer to it as a bribe house and that just shows how far he and Larry have managed to come in regards to their relationship in a few short months.  It’s amazing what a professional therapist acting as a mediator can do when both parties are willing to try.

 

The trail they’re walking comes to a fork and wordlessly, he tugs Connor down a side trail with a sign indicating yet another lookout on the other end.  Connor, of course, obliged and clicks his tongue to alert Dante, who is darting about to and fro off leash.

 

He grins a little thinking of their graduation party.  Somehow, he and Connor had become very good friends with Alana Beck, something he had never thought could happen with the other girl.  She had always seemed too open and closed off at the same time and she had always intimidated him in some fashion. Now he considers her his best friend, next to Connor of course, and it boggles his mind that he has _friends_ now on top of a fantastic boyfriend.  Zoe has even managed to relax around both him and her brother, and he’ll never forget the pleased smile that bloomed over Alana’s cheeks the first time the youngest Murphy called her by her name instead of Beck.

 

Jared is...Jared, and Evan doesn’t expect that to ever change.   He definitely doesn’t think they will never be close again. Most importantly for Evan, he simply holds too many bad memories and feelings of resentment from years of misunderstandings and outright bullying from the other boy, but he tolerates him both because first, Jared is dating Zoe and Evan wants to encourage the growth and healing between the siblings who are actually sort of friends again, and second because Jared actually is making an attempt now to be a friend.  Sometimes. Occasionally. Yeah, he’ll probably never trust Jared again, and that is something he can deal with.

 

The trail comes to a stop at the overlook as promised.  He’s already taken enough landscape photos from the other overlooks along the way and now is desperate for up close shots but that has to wait until they’ve wound down a bit further.  He contentedly snaps pictures instead of Dante with the mountain range in the background. He loves that Connor indulges him, especially since it’s actually landed him a job doing the thing he loves the most - photography.

 

His _job!_  He has a job taking _pictures_ what is his life?  He actually has some periodic contract work as a travel photographer for the magazine that had held the contest.  He had won the grand prize - he nearly fainted while Connor had run about the Murphy house screaming at the top of his lungs - which had included his photo used as the cover along with an array of other photos along with an article about his favorite tree as the center article.  He had had three separate celebrations, the first alone with Connor and that had definitely not been appropriate for other guests, the second with the rest of the Murphy’s, and the third with his mom, Connor, and Alana. And of course then his estranged father had contacted him and tried to ruin it all and he'd like to not think about Mark right now.

 

Dante jumps up onto a rock and knocks some pebbles off, sending them scattering down the side of the steep hill and Evan fights the urge to call the dog back.  He’s safe, he’s balanced, and he hasn’t fallen yet. Evan just worries too much. He hates Connor doesn't make him walk on a leash.

 

“Hey, Ev?”

 

It’s the first either of them have spoken in over an hour, content to be quiet in each other’s presence.  Connor’s grip on his hand tightens, and it’s shaking a little, and suddenly Evan is a little nervous about whatever it is that is on Connor’s mind and he looks over at his boyfriend with a slightly furrowed brow that immediately relaxes, content to wait for his boyfriend to speak when he sees the light, happy expression Connor wears.  “Yes?”

 

### Connor

 

He is very happy today.  He has a warm hand holding his, an excitable dog who hasn’t stopped moving since they got out of the Jeep an hour ago, and this is their last stop in Colorado before heading out to his favorite kiddo.  He tosses a pebble at Evan when the camera clicks in his direction after Dante stops in his mad darting and leaping to pause and pant up at him, but he doesn’t say anything because while Evan still takes pictures like a madman, now he's justified, not that he have ever asked Evan to stop if he _hadn’t_ landed a job as a photographer.

 

Connor is so very thankful that Evan agreed to take his classes with him at the local college.  It will be impossible for him to complete his degree online seeing as he wants to be a pediatric nurse and he’s heard enough from Heidi to know that one needs to go through practicals to become a nurse, which means he can't complete his degree online, not really.   He’s found a couple of programs but all of them seem super scammy because he can't imagine becoming a nurse without practicing the techniques which means attending a brick and mortar college.

 

They've spent the month of September with Jamie and Ryan and the visit went well.  Immediately upon arriving, they had learned that Carson was no longer associating with them, though it was apparently his choice not theirs.  Jamie thinks it’s due to guilt for betraying confidence, but none of them can know for certain unless the older Beck sibling breaks his silence.  Of course, he also plans on grilling Alana about it as soon as they get back to Rochester.

 

The trip has also included a great deal many talks between Connor and Jamie about his future and what he wants to do.  Connor knows he wants to help kids out like him, but he also knows he can't do what Jamie is, at least not at this stage in his life.  Next, he had contemplated being an EMT or some other emergency responder, but in doing research on job stressors and what not had decided that maybe his brain wouldn’t function well in that sort of stressful environment and eventually settled on nursing, specifically pediatric if he's able to choose a focus.  They start in January for the spring semester, with Evan promising to take only one trip a semester for his articles, and the commute is so negligible between their condo and the school he plans on walking every day.

 

His dad probably had planned it that way.  Conniving old man. How dare he show he gives a shit about him?

 

Okay, he’s being unreasonable now and he knows it.  His dad has actually been pretty awesome over the last few months, the way he remembers him being when he and Zoe were kids, before Connor’s second grade year.  They've had ups and downs, but he genuinely seems to want to make things better so Connor thinks things might actually be permanent. Not to mention just how much Larry loves Evan.  Sometimes, Connor is convinced Larry is being nice to him because he wants _Evan_ to stay around though he also knows that it's a ridiculous thought.

 

Sure, they might have had a nasty argument about a week before he and Evan left. Sure, Larry may have said something about Connor needing to take _proper_ control over his life and sure, Connor may have said (fine, screamed) a few choice words in return about how he knew Larry hadn't changed in the slightest and how he might as well pack up and leave but then they actually talked it out like adults.

 

Yeah, he knows the changes are going to be permanent because just before they had departed, his dad had given him a hug, handed him his credit card, and had said in a thick voice, “I love you, Connor, Evan.  I'll see you both in November. Please call me in the evenings, or at the very least text so I know you are safe.” It's a far cry from a year prior. Therapy really has helped them learn how to communicate a lot better.

 

Evan has stayed by his side, too.  He’s kind of surprised by that, but also not really either.  It helps that their entire relationship started because he had all but demanded Evan join him on a road trip after screaming at him.  Yeah, he doesn’t understand it either, but he’s not complaining. They’re only nineteen, but he already knows he doesn’t want anyone else by his side as he grows old, sharing those life experiences and milestones, aging together until they’re old and wrinkly and grey.  He likes imagining himself as an old man now because he always has a similarly aged Evan with him, and yeah, they just need to do it already.

 

Evan is still looking at him, the worry replaced with contented love and he feels his face twist into a crooked grin as a response. It’s that contentment that helps his thoughts flow and he asks softly, “We’ll live happily ever after, right?”  That’s the biggest question, isn’t it? What had they been striving for, what exactly had they been hoping to achieve at the end of their trip? Happiness. It's sort of the one question he's been the most afraid to ask, too.

 

He seems startled by the question, like it wasn’t the one he had been expecting, and that’s fair.  Evan tends to venture to the worst case scenario the longer Connor stays quiet after getting his attention.  “Well…” Evan starts slowly and softly, but picks up in confidence as he talks. “I think that it’s our choice.  We get to decide that, and I think we’ve been doing a good job so far.”

 

“Yeah.  Right.  Yeah, same.”  They fall into silence again for a bit.  He shouldn’t be such a little chicken shit about this, it’s not like they haven’t talked about it, and Connor hasn’t exactly been subtle about his intent to be with Evan forever.  He takes a breath to calm himself and then asks, “When did you want to get married?”

 

Evan snorts and loops his arm through Connor’s, nearly pulling them down five milliseconds later when he steps immediately out of sync with him.  “I was under the impression one had to be engaged to get married.” He retorts as he rights himself and Connor shrugs and directs them back to the main path.  He’s ready to move on so Evan can take his pictures down in the valley before heading off towards California.

 

“I was under the impression we were already engaged so we’re fine.”

 

Evan looks down at his empty engagement hand in mock confusion.  “Since...since when?” Or maybe it's real confusion.  Maybe this is one of those times where Connor thinks he was clear about something yet never actually spoke about it.  Hmm.

 

He arches an eyebrow, trying to appear nonchalant and confident but failing completely.  “…Since the first time we had sex? We're at least a little engaged.”

 

The confusion vanishes, leaving a blank stare as Evan processes the words.  His eyebrows draw together and his head starts to tilt to one side and Connor knows he’s about to get a minor dressing down.  Shit, this _is_ a thing that was all in his head.  “Telling me after sex I have forever to find your prostate is not a proposal, Connor!  That is not how a proposal works. At all. You kind of have to be clear about your intent.”

 

He thought it had been clear though, the concept of forever, and shrugs again.  “I found yours sooner than you found mine.” He snarks, trying to completely avoid the fact he very stupidly assumes things and when will he learn?

 

Evan’s jaw actually drops open at that, like he can’t believe Connor would say that during a mild argument.  “First of all...” He splutters, and god Connor shouldn’t find that so goddamned endearing but he’s so far gone on Evan Hansen that at this point he doesn’t even care how sappy and emotional he is anymore.  “ _That_ was completely on accident and you know it.”  Lies, he’s a sex _god_.  “Second, I wasn't aware sex was a contest and if it is maybe we should discuss that?”

 

“I mean, I wouldn't _mind_ adding some competition…”

 

“And third!”  Evan talks louder over his crass words, silently cursing that Evan knows he’s not serious about it, he only wants to distract and it isn’t working.  “Third that has nothing to do with the current conversation.”

 

“You know, it took you a considerably shorter time than forever for you…”  The exasperated look starts to turn dark and he knows he’s reached his limit for teasing.  “Okay sorry, fine.  I'll stop now.  Victor Evan Hansen, you should marry me.”

 

The exasperation just turns into a grin that is  filled with something amused and mischievous.  “Maybe. I’ll have to think about it.”

 

_“Evan!_ ”  The boy in question skips away from his swatting hand, narrowly missing his ass by a hair, and his loud laughter echoes over the Aspens and the trail.

 

As the merriment trails off and they sober down, a slightly panicked expression comes across Evan’s face.  “But when we get married, we’ll have a wedding, and weddings have people staring at you, and I don’t think I’ll ever be comfortable enough to be the center of attention, Connie.”

 

He rolls his eyes at that.  There are always solutions that, all they need is an officiate and a witness for the certificate.  “We could always just...go to the courthouse, you know?”

 

Evan is silent, and their steps are loud on the path.  Even Dante’s panting is quieter, as if he’s also waiting in anticipation for Evan’s response.  “Now?” He finally asks and his cute brow arch makes Connor want to kiss him.

 

So he does.  And then he rolls his eyes so hard it almost hurts. “Well, no.  I want to show off that we’re engaged for awhile first. Give it a couple of months, first, then we go to the courthouse.”

 

Evan looks at his hand again in confusion, though this time Connor is pretty sure he’s just dicking around at this point.  “Oh, we’re engaged? I don’t recall an actual question.”

 

Goddammit.  Pedantic asshole.  “You’re planning our wedding!”

 

He flips a hand absently, as if shooing away his retort.  “Semantics.”

 

“ _Evan._ ”  His boyfriend (fiance?) is very lucky Connor has a better grasp on his temper these days, not that he’s truly lost it at his love ever anyway and never intends to.

 

Evan sounds matter of fact and logical when he responds.  “Buy me a ring, ask an actual question, and we’ll see what I say then.”  Connor wants to laugh at the timing. He really does. He’s had this stupid thing since last week after seeing it in a store along Pearl Street and the wood texture imprinted in the metal had capture his eye immediately and he knew Evan had to have it.  His hand flies to his jacket pocket to shuffle through to find that box. Evan looks away from the scenery at the rustling noises and eyes him carefully. “Connor, what are you…”

 

He points a finger at Evan’s face, still hunting for the stupid box as he switches what pocket he’s searching. “You said if I had a ring…”

 

His laugh picks back up and Connor loves how Evan sounds when he’s happy and amused.  “You don’t.”

 

He wants to crow triumphantly when his fingers wrap around the little cardboard box that houses the hand twisted metal band that had screamed _Evan_ when he had seen it.  “I do.”

 

“Sorry, that has to wait until we have an officiate.”  The little smart ass knows he’s being one, too, because that is the widest shit eating grin Connor has ever seen.

 

The sigh he releases is one full of long suffering patience and love and it sounds just like the one his mom releases whenever talking about or to his father.  “Shh. Let me talk now.” Yeah, he’s doing this now apparently. He shoves the box at Evan, too nervous to open it and show the ring to him directly. Now that he thinks about it, the ring isn’t at all what a normal engagement ring would be and maybe Evan will hate it.  Welp, too late now.

 

Evan grips the box in one hand and claps a hand over his mouth and nods for Connor to continue.  He doesn’t look at Evan when he talks, he can’t. If he does, he won’t make it through. “I’m not kneeling 'cuz that’s dumb and the ground is really gross.”  Evan nods again, a smirk shining through his hand and Connor rolls his eyes. “So, um. You’ve seen me, the worst the best and everything in between.” Evan hasn’t stopped nodding since he started talking and Connor wants to grab his face and make him stop.  He doesn’t, of course, he just keeps babbling. “I still can’t believe you agreed to leave with me, last year. It was wild, we barely knew each other and now look at us. I love you. Oh, hey you have your camera right?”

 

Evan finally breaks his silence, and his bobble head imitation.  “This is the most roundabout proposal ever.”

 

He groans and wants to shake Evan by the shoulders but he doesn’t because yes he’s being a little shit but he loves him and he’s adorable and goddammit he really does want to marry the ass so he should probably get to it.  “Evan Hansen shut up and let me ask you to marry me in my own way.”

 

“How romantic.”  Comes the dry reply before Evan gives a little happy sigh and leans his head on Connor’s shoulder.  It’s a lot awkward while they’re walking, but he tolerates it. “And yes, of course I’ll marry you.”

 

His steps falter and slow as he blinks, a little stunned, because that still hadn’t actually been a question.  “That…that was...Evan! Let me finish! You haven’t even seen what the fucking ring looks like yet.”

 

They’ve come to a stop when Evan turns big, wide, innocent eyes on him and Connor isn’t fooled by them one little bit.  “But I already said yes.”

 

“Maybe I take it back.”   Yeah, he sounds petulant and very much like a five year old right now and he doesn’t care.

 

“No takesy backsies.”  Evan shakes the box holding the ring and they both listen to it rattle inside for a moment.  Dante’s eyes follow the movement for a moment before deciding it must not be for him, or food, and snuffles off to explore the path around them.

 

Connor goes to grab the box and nearly falls over when Evan yanks his arm away and Connor misses completely. “You aren’t wearing it yet, I can do what I want.”

 

Evan opens the box and slips the ring on before he can try again, grinning triumphantly as he holds his newly anointed hand up in the air.   “Ha, too slow! I win.”

 

Connor bursts into hysterical laughter because _Evan hadn’t even looked at it_ and kisses him again and again and again both laughing and making the kiss messy and not at all sexy, but he wouldn't change this moment for a thing. “Are you going to look at your ring?”

 

“In a minute.”  Evan says breathlessly and god if it doesn’t match exactly how he’s feeling and he leans in as Evan says,  “I need to kiss my fiance first.”

 

“He’s happy to oblige.”  Connor whispers before pressing smiling lips to Evan’s, the giggles and laughter still making it difficult and messy and perfect because they’re engaged, they're actually engaged now, and they’re both doing extremely well in life now.  They have a home together, they have their dog and their jobs and they have friends and even their families are tolerable to be around again. Sure, they both have a long way still to go before either of them feel like they’re the perfect picture of mental health.  However, they've come so far that the journey ahead seems manageable, especially if they're together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that is the epilogue! This story really was purely for self-healing, which is why it’s so fucking fluffy. I'd apologize for the lack of true angst, but I love it so I can't. 
> 
> Of course I have one shots and little novelettes planned that will explore life before, during, and after the story (as well as expand a little on the events listed in the epilogue) but nothing I would consider a sequel. There are definitely also going to be one shots with various POV’s throughout the main story including Jared’s, Heidi Hansen’s, Alana’s, and also the Murphy’s.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed the final chapter and I’ll see you all in my other stories!


End file.
